


Trained

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aggressive behaviour, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Auction, Baby Play, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cages, Cock & Ball Torture, Collars, Cuffs, Depression, Diapers, Enemas, F/M, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Hand Feeding, Humbler, Humiliation, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Medical Examination, Pony Play, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Riding Crops, Rods, Spanking, Submission, Suspension Bondage, Training, ballgags, bed wetting, forced blow jobs, forced hand-job, gentle love-making, head harness, paddles, penis gag, ring gags, ropes, sex slaves, sex trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock has taken off alone running after a suspect. He runs away from the crime scene and John is too slow; he can't keep up. Sherlock is gone, his mobile is switched off and even though he is chipped he can't be found.John is worried and so is Greg. Mycroft starts to investigate and something horrible comes to light.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter One

„I swear to God! If he has done it again, I will give him a few!“ John shouted abuse at Sherlock who wasn’t even there. He had taken off from the crime scene after seeing something no one else had seen. John had lost his trail after a few hundred meters. And gone he was.  
Hours later he had texted him, tried to call him and even went back to where he was last seen. There were no traces of him. He had even called his awful brother because of the CCTV. They saw him entering an abandoned warehouse a few blocks away. They didn’t see him leave.  
John called Greg Lestrade and both of them drove over there to have a closer look. Even Mycroft, Sherlock’s older brother, showed up. Inside they found blood. They also found Sherlock’s coat with both his purse and mobile. They found nothing whatsoever of the detective himself. He had disappeared.

***

Sherlock had moved through the abandoned warehouse using his mobile as a torch. He didn’t hear a sound but he sensed that there were people here. He entered a larger space and saw cages. Cages with people inside. His eyes widened. Then he was pushed into his back and fell forward on the dirty ground. He lost his mobile and it slid over the concrete and away from him.

“It seems we have a guest!” A male voice said and Sherlock tensed. He tried to get up but a foot was placed on his back and held him down. His arms flayed around and he still tried to get up. The man just clawed into his hair and rudely pulled him up. He screamed and tears ran over his cheekbones. His wrist was snatched and his arm got turned up his back.

“Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t fight.” Sherlock stopped moving. He once sobbed but did nothing else.

“Very good, pet.” He got shoved over to an empty cage. His eyes roamed over the men inside to his left and right.

“You’ve got unexpected company. Anyway, you may show him how well trained and behaved you are. It will also show him what will become of him.” The man darkly laughed and shoved Sherlock into the arms of two other men. They brutally undressed him and threw his posh clothes on the floor. Once completely naked he was forced on his knees again and moved into the empty cage. It was dirty. Someone had been in here lately. Sherlock slowly turned around and watched his surroundings.  
The men weren’t even masked. Sherlock swallowed. Where the fuck was John?

***

John was scared to death when Mycroft showed him some video surveillance he got from a satellite above the warehouse. They zoomed in and saw men transporting cages with people inside out of the warehouse. They counted seven cages and in the last one knelt Sherlock. He held on to the bars and got shoved into a container together with the others.

“Where did they take him?” John looked at Mycroft and he was close to tears.

“We do have a search warrant issued for the truck. We are still trying the facial recognition software for the men.”

“How much time has passed already?” Lestrade asked Mycroft. He sighed.

“Too much time, I am afraid. I alerted border patrol and everyone else I could think of. Sherlock is chipped so I also tried this. But it didn’t work. They probably took it off of him which would explain the blood in there.” John swallowed and felt totally nauseated.

“John, you are pale as death. Please go home and wait until something comes up.” Lestrade looked worried but John shook his head.

“No way! I want to help! I can’t just go home!” Mycroft and Greg both looked at him.

“OK. You can come to the Yard with me.” John relaxed at once.

“Thank you, Greg.” Mycroft nodded his approval.

“I'm going back to my office to see what Anthea has dug up by now. I’ll contact you as soon as possible.” He waved good-bye and Lestrade’s eyes rested a bit too long on the leaving man.

“Greg?” Greg looked at John.

“Sorry? I was lost in thoughts. He is very worried about Sherlock. He never shows but he is.”

“I know. I once caught him hugging Sherlock when he came down with the flue. He had brought fruits and had pressed oranges for him. He tried to take care and Sherlock wasn’t able to deny him because he was too weak.” Both men smiled sadly. Then they rode off to the Yard.

Five days had already passed after Sherlock’s disappearance.


	2. Chapter Two

Sherlock watched what the men outside made the ones in the cages do. It was quite the show.  
The first door was opened and it needed no order at all for the man to crawl out. He knelt straight up and folded his hands on his nape. Very slowly one man stepped up close and the captive opened his trousers with his teeth. He managed to take his cock out halfway, too. But it seemed that he used his teeth. The man swore and hit him hard in the face. He fell to the ground but moved back into position at once.

“You useless piece of shit! I told you a hundred times not to use teeth! What do you need your ears for? What for?” Sherlock watched shocked. He could see the man’s back. It was covered in welts and bruises.

“I announce the following punishment: 20 beatings by cane and 5 hours on the machine.” The man twitched but showed no other reaction. Two other men tied him down into a hogtie and the hitting started. Alone ten went on his soles. Three hit his head, five his side and two his shoulders. He was bleeding badly but never once screamed.  
Afterwards he was tied into a machine from which a rather large plug led into his arse. His arms and waist got tied to it and the whole thing got shoved back into the cage. Once the door was closed it started to fuck the man ruthlessly. Sherlock wondered if he would survive five hours.  
Suddenly the man returned to him.

“I am sorry. This thing over there is worthless. Some others do better already. And I bet we will get a fortune for you, princess. For now, you are safe.” He once hit the top of the cage and Sherlock ducked. The man laughed and left him.

***

Sherlock had no idea how long they stayed in that place. He watched some more beatings and predicaments but they left him alone. Only a few pictures were taken of him in the cage but nothing happened to him.  
Once and again they were fed and got water. They were led into an old restroom and allowed to use the loo and take showers. Sherlock found no way to escape and he didn’t want to risk a punishment.  
One day, after he was soaked in luke-warm water by a hose leaning against the dirty wall, he was forced into some positions for more pictures. He did what they wanted. He wasn’t harmed and got shoved back into the cage. Only a few minutes later he was carried into a truck with some of the others. The air was stale and the breathing became difficult. He was tired and rolled into a heap on the floor of the cage. He woke when cold water was poured over his body. He shook and got laughed at. He looked around while being carried outside again. The garage or whatever place it was led directly into a luxurious place.  
He was in some sort of salon with old furniture and carpets. Expensive paintings were on the walls as well as many antics. There was a man standing in front of his cage and he looked at him. His eyes moved over his body and he finally stepped up and opened the cage. Sherlock took it as the invitation it was and crawled outside. The man started to circle him.

“You do as I order you. From now on I am your master. You don’t deny me.” Only now Sherlock saw a riding crop in his hands. He lifted up his chin by it.

“This is your resting position. On your knees, upright and your hands folded on your nape. And if I want to fuck you, you will be on your hands and knees, chest on the floor and arse in the air. Understood, pet?” Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, master.” The man grinned.

“Very well. You won’t be without restraints from now on. Wrist and ankle cuffs will always be on. I really don’t want to scar you, so just don’t fight back. Do as I say and it will be bearable.” He rang a bell and another man brought the cuffs. They were black leather padded with cashmere. They were followed by a collar which sat snugly around his neck.

“Stand up, pet.” Sherlock obeyed. The man closed his wrist cuffs on his back and sauntered over to his front.

“Spread your legs and push your hips forward.” Sherlock blushed a bit but did as being told. The man grinned and moved his gloved hands over his skin.

“Oh, you will be the fucking star. I can see it.” Then he took both his testicles and his penis in his hand and examined them closely.

“Size above average. Not circumcised. Very nice indeed.” He tapped the riding crop on Sherlock’s arse.

“Move over to that table and get chest down on it.” Sherlock moved quickly and settled.

“Spread your legs further.” They got cuffed to the table’s legs. Sherlock heard the click of a tube being opened and tensed. Then it became cold between his cheeks. He bit his lips. And there he was, he poked his finger on his hole and tried to breach him.

“You are a tight slut. Why are you so tight?” Now Sherlock sobbed. Suddenly he panicked. He started to wriggle and tried to get up.

“No!” The crop hit his thigh and he yelped.

“Please …” Sherlock whimpered. He got hit again, this time a bit harder.

“Stop begging. Stop whimpering. Just be ready for me. Take it as the perfect slut that you are.” He pressed down again.

“Hm. Tell me, princess, are you still a virgin?”

“Yes, master.” Sherlock sobbed it out. The man jumped in the air and clapped his hands.

“Oh, bloody hell! Brilliant! Fantastic!” He pulled him up, turned his head and kissed him on the mouth. Then he rang the bell again and a woman entered the room.

“Virgin treatment!” She sauntered closer and looked Sherlock over.

“And you do believe him? I mean, just look at him.” Sherlock knelt on the floor again. He was completely shocked. But he thought of John. He knew John was looking for him. John would come and save him. Until then he had to cope somehow. He would do what these people wanted and be safe.

“Yes, sure, but I felt him and … Just try yourself.” She wore gloves by now, too, and glared at him.

“Chest on the ground, slut!” Sherlock did as being told and she probed at his hole, too.

“Fuck, you are right. Virgin hole. Splendid. Let’s get him to see the doctor before I start the treatment.”

“Agreed. You know what to do.” The man left and Sherlock wondered what was coming up next.

“Now, pet. We have to make sure that your condition is perfect for our customers. You will accompany me to the doctor. He will check on you. And afterwards, you will be taken care of. Meaning you will be shown how to properly behave around your master. Or mistress.” She evilly smiled.

“Get up.” Sherlock stood and she hooked a leash to his collar. Sherlock felt humiliated. She once pulled and he followed her.   
The doctor forced him onto an examination chair and tied his legs, arms, and chest to it. Then he spread his thighs and lifted up his arse. Sherlock heard him don gloves. Lube was applied and now something cold and metal slipped in. It burnt. And it hurt. But the finger had been worse and Sherlock managed not to make a noise. The speculum was opened and stainless-steel touched his insides. Sherlock breathed through the ordeal.

“Good boy.” He was praised and felt better.

And he hated himself.

He tried to shut it out. He moved when he was told to. He opened his mouth and had his teeth examined. He let them touch his cock. Everything happened as in slow-motion but he managed. He didn’t want to cry in front of them.

After he was done, the woman, his mistress, was very pleased and pulled him along. They didn’t return into the salon. Instead he was brought into the basement. They entered something like a torture chamber. Sherlock felt cold when seeing what was in here.

“Kneel!” Sherlock knelt. She moved behind him and he could hear her rummaging through things. She walked up behind him.

“Open your pretty mouth!” Sherlock did and a huge ball-gag was shoved behind his teeth. His jaw hurt and he knew the edges of his mouth might tear because she tightened it hard and it cut into his skin. Soon enough he started to drool around it. She looked at him and smiled.

“Now let’s see what you are capable of.” She hopped on a bench and rang a bell. An assistant clad in black leather appeared.

“Full rope predicament.” The man took away the cuffs around his wrists and started to tie ropes around and over his chest and torso until he wasn’t able to move his arms. He made him stand in the middle of the room and pulled more ropes from the ceiling. One rope led from his bound arms to the ceiling so he was held. He tied his thigh right above his knee and hooked it up so he had to balance on one leg. Another rope came around his other ankle and was pulled up. He inhaled sharply when he hung freely.

“Head up, princess, and look at me!” He tried it and didn’t make it for long. She scribbled something into her tablet. The assistant now started to touch his privates and he jerked in his restraints.

“Stop it or you‘ll suffer the consequences, slut!” But he couldn’t. He wildly jerked and twisted and sweat and spit flew around. His eyes were large and he was close to a panic attack. The assistant once pulled his balls sharply making him yell for the first time. The woman seriously looked at him.

“We can cause a lot of pain without doing you any bodily harm. There won’t be bruises, blood, or welts but pain. Trust me with that, princess. Behave!” Sherlock sobbed. He was scared to death when the man fondled his balls and examined his penis closely.  
The woman looked somewhat disappointed.

“You are so not ready. But you will be worth the trouble.” She made a gesture towards the assistant and he let go. Sherlock relaxed and could barely suppress his sobs. The woman stepped up to him.

“You need to learn your lesson, pet.” He was let down again and then tied up by his ankles, knees, and thighs. A head harness came up, too, and by now he wore a ring-gag. A rope lead from the head to his bound wrists so he was forced to hold it up. Another rope led from his wrists to his ankles. His body was forced into a position which made his muscles cramp.

“Two hours. This will happen every time you deny someone touching your genitals.” They placed a clock in front of him.


	3. Chapter Three

Mycroft’s people found the truck. It had been abandoned on a parking lot by the motorway. It was empty but there were traces of blood and faecal. They found Sherlock’s DNA in there, too. They had dogs which were able to trace people but they stopped sniffing after five miles into the fields. Some forensics found more blood and Mycroft paled.

Greg thought that wasn’t a good sign. Mycroft seemed to be helpless and it scared him to death. Their eyes met and Greg was able to see the pain and despair. Mycroft did indeed care for his little sibling. Even though they kept fighting around others there was a strong bond.

“I should inform John.” Greg said looking at the men searching the area. Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, please do so. I can’t stand facing him and pretend to be strong.” Right after he said it, he bit his lip and looked away. Greg was surprised. Mycroft had never admitted weakness before.

“What do you need?” Greg simply asked looking at him. He wanted to comfort the man. And now it was Mycroft’s turn to be surprised but a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Company.” No more was said for about a minute.

“Tonight? Your place?” Greg suggested and Mycroft nodded.

“Seven.” He just turned around and entered his car. And gone he was. Greg sighed and called John.

***

John paced through 221B. Then again, he stared into Sherlock’s bedroom. He was feeling sick. He didn’t listen to his mobile ringing. He didn’t want to eat. At last, he undressed and crept into Sherlock’s bed. He buried his face into his pillow and pulled the duvet up to his chin. He could still smell him, even though it faded away a bit with every passing day.

He heard the knocking. He didn’t bother. Then he heard the voices. Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. He pulled the blanket over his head and rolled on his side facing the wall. He didn’t realise that he was copying Sherlock’s behaviour.  
Then there was a hand on his shoulder.

“John? You have to get up. Sherlock needs you.”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Lestrade. If you don’t have any news, please be so kind and fuck off.” Mrs Hudson gaped at the hidden figure of John.

“Mind your tongue, young man!” John snorted. Greg nodded to her and ushered her out of the bedroom. Then he sat on the edge and started to talk.

“Please, John.”

“Go away!” Greg ripped off the blanket. John turned around and glared at him.

“You have spent too much time with our favourite detective!”

“Jealous much?” John smirked and started to get up.

“What?” Greg couldn’t believe his ears.

“I don’t like to repeat myself but fuck off!” And he shoved Greg backwards. He stumbled and almost fell but could grip the door frame. His face turned a shade darker. He was getting angry.

“John, pull yourself together!”

“Piss off!” And he pushed him harder to make him go away. Greg tried to grab his wrists. Both men were fighters and soon enough there was a brawl going on. They fell over some furniture and finally rolled over the floor. It only stopped because John hit his head on the coffee table and blacked out for a few seconds.  
Greg took the opportunity to cuff his hands on his lower back and place him on a kitchen chair. He checked on John’s head but he wasn’t bleeding. He was panting.  
John quietly groaned and opened his eyes. When he saw Greg, he grit his teeth.

“John, are you back with me?” John tried to relax but he was still furious. He didn’t reply. Greg sat down on the table with his legs dangling in front of John.

“Mycroft and I need you with us. Sherlock needs you in full combat mode. You can have a nervous breakdown when everything is over but not now. Do you hear me?”

“Take these off of me right away!” But Greg shook his head.

“No. Not until you are back to normal.” John snorted and tried to kick him.

“Come back when you have something important to tell me. For instance, where Sherlock is held captive. So, I can go there and take him home.”

“If you want to go on a rampage, that’s fine with me. But do it the intelligent way. Channel your anger and help us. We have many leads; we have to follow and check out. You know your work. You could be a big help. Please, John?” John had finally relaxed a bit. He closed his eyes and swallowed. After a few minutes, he opened them again and looked at Greg.

“I am sorry, Greg. It’s just, I am so worried.” His eyes watered and Greg quickly took the handcuffs off. He gently massaged his wrists and held his hands.

“So am I. You know, we do anything we have to. Trust me, please?” John nodded.

“I do. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Go and see Donovan. She is going over the latest missing person's reports, see if there are similarities.”

“Will do.” John replied and stood.

“OK, I’ll be over soon, too. I go and see if there are any results from forensics about the DNA yet.” John grabbed his jacket and mobile. Both men left Baker Street.


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock cried. He stared at the clock. He was tied into that forced position for almost two hours now. His legs painfully cramped and tears ran freely over his face. Snot clotted his nose and his breathing was constricted by both the clotted nose and his forced- back head. Plus, there still was the ring-gag forcing his jaw open. His gum hurt and he drooled a lot.

Exactly when the two hours were over the woman and her assistant returned. He untied him and hooked him up into a standing position. He wasn’t able to hold himself up. His legs got spread by a bar. He reached out for his genitals again and this time Sherlock only trembled a bit.

“Very good, pet. Learnt a lesson, didn’t you?” She pretended to read something on her list and then finally stepped up.

“We will train you, pet. You will do as we say and you will perform perfectly. You will be auctioned as a virgin with special skills. These skills you still have to learn. Let’s start now, shall we?” He looked at her. He still was gagged. He was scared to death.

“We will start with you coming for us. You will be touched and you will come. We expect you to be hard when we want it. We will punish you for not performing well enough.” She snapped her fingers and the gag was taken away. Sherlock’s jaw cracked.

“Answer me, pet. Have you ever had something in your whorish hole?”

“No, mistress.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No, mistress.”

“How often do you wank?” Sherlock blushed and she giggled.

“Not regularly, mistress.” She looked surprised.

“Not daily?”

“No, mistress.” She licked her lips.

“Let’s see what’s going to happen now.” The assistant started to stroke him. He gently rolled his nipples between his fingers and caressed him. Sherlock became hard. Finally, he touched him again between his legs. Sherlock’s body betrayed him. His guts coiled and he felt heavenly aroused. Soon enough he was leaking on the floor. The woman grinned.

“Make him come.” The man nodded and gave him a perfect hand-job. Sherlock jerked and yelled. He came and limply hung from the rope.

“Very good so far, you look great like this, pet.” Then she had him lowered down on his knees.

“Now clean up the mess you made.” She pointed at his cum on the floor and Sherlock swallowed. He hesitated a few seconds too much and a hand fisted into his hair. He was shaken and it hurt.

“Lick it up, slut. If you spit it out or even throw up, there will be consequences. Now thank me for giving you the opportunity to make it better!” Sherlock suppressed a sob.

“Thank you, mistress, for letting me make it better.” He got patted on the head and relaxed.

“Very good, pet. Now go on.” Sherlock lowered his head and licked his cum off the floor.

“And now I want you to return the favour.” She pointed at the assistant who got out his cock. Sherlock’s eyes widened. His hands were freed from the rope and he knelt again. One wrist got cuffed to his collar and his free hand reached out for the cock. He took it and carefully stroked and pulled it. He felt it harden, so he couldn’t perform too bad. In theory, he knew how to do this since it had just been done to him. He had saved every single bit of information and now returned the so-called favour.  
And he did concentrate on the task. He didn’t want to be punished. He just needed to survive until John came and got him out. Of course, he would kill everyone.  
The woman watched him and noted something.

“Finish him. Just move faster and use a little more pressure.” Sherlock obeyed and the man came over his hand.

“Now first clean his prick and then your hand. When you are done, today’s training is over.”

“Yes, mistress.” He kept thinking of John while he cleaned everything properly. The bitter taste hurt his gum but he didn’t pull a face. When he was done, he was praised and his wrists got cuffed on his lower back again. They hooked a leash to his collar again, too. There was a blindfold coming up now and he tensed at once.

“You have to get used to this. Nothing more will happen today except for dinner. Behave and you will be rewarded.”

“Yes, mistress.” She tugged on the leash and he started to walk. After several minutes he smelled food.

“Kneel, pet.” He knelt and felt her close by. She sat down and moved him closer, so he could lean against her.

“You may heel. I will hand-feed you now. This is something you need to learn, as well. It’s not really hard to learn. Just take what I give you.” Sherlock was hungry. And he relaxed sitting on his heels. His wrists were still tied and he also was blindfolded.

“Yes, mistress.” He listened into the darkness. He heard someone bring food and dishes were placed on a table. Cutlery scratched over plates.

“Open up, slut.” Sherlock did and a piece of meat was shoved into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. Several fries followed it. He devoured everything she gave him. At the end, she held a glass of water in front of his mouth and he carefully sipped it.

“What does a good boy do?”

“Thank you for giving me food and water, mistress.”

“Very good, pet. Now I’ll take you into your crib.” He was pulled up again. He wondered if he could use the loo but he didn’t dare ask for it. She probably knew what he was thinking about.

“Using the bathroom is a privilege you still have to earn, pet. Until you have done so, there will be a diaper.” Sherlock knew he had to accept his fate. He didn’t fancy any more punishments.  
After they arrived in some other room, Sherlock knew it was another room because it smelled different, she took off the blindfold. He blinked and saw nothing but a simple bed. The whole room was white and there were no windows.

“On your back with your legs pulled up.” He obeyed. His cuffed wrists pressed into his back and it hurt. The assistant was suddenly present again. He shoved a diaper underneath his arse and closed it at his hips. The thing was big and he wasn’t able to close his legs anymore. He was rolled on his side and his wrists were freed. But at once they were tied to the crib’s frame. The same happened to his ankles. An over-sized pacifier was held before his mouth and he obediently opened up. It got tied in his neck with coloured ribbons.

“Good boy.” She praised him from behind the man. Then they left. The light got turned off and he was left in the dark. He tried to find a comfortable position but couldn’t. He wasn’t used to sleeping on his back but now he had to. Also, there was a diaper. He hoped he wouldn’t need it. If necessary, he would beg for the bathroom tomorrow.  
His brain whirled. Where was his fucking brother? What was CCTV good for?

And John. Where was John? Sherlock started to suckle on the pacifier thinking of John. He knew he wasn’t able to escape these people. The only thing he could do was trying not to get hurt. He would do as being told. He would be their good boy, their pet. Obviously, they wouldn’t rape him, at least not right now. They had said something about an auction. They wanted to auction him. The virgin.

But as long as he got fed, he would survive. He would perform for them. He must survive. He mustn’t get punished. So, he divided his soul from his transport. His soul at once fled into his mind palace and raced downstairs into an old room. The door was closed from the inside. Only his transport was left behind. It was just transport. He would protect it while he waited for John.

He longed for John.

***

He must have fallen asleep at some time because he woke when being poked on his belly. His eyes shot open and he saw the woman.

“Good morning, princess. Did you use the diaper?” He shook his head.

“But you have to get used to it. Bathroom is not on your list.” He looked up and made begging noises.

“Oh princess, you are not ready for me yet. You can’t give me what I want. Use it!” But he couldn’t.

“OK, I understand. I will help. Don’t consider this a punishment.” He was made to kneel again and his hands were tied on his back. The man forced his head back and a bottle was shoved between his lips. He drank its content. It was apple juice. He felt it moving inside his belly. It gurgled. Then he was fed some mushy oatmeal stuff. He hated it but he ate it. He didn’t want to be punished.

“Good boy.” He was praised after he had finished. The pacifier gag came back on but his hands were freed. He was made to sit on a blanket on the floor.

“Now show us how nicely you can play, pet. Crawl around, hug your dolls and look pretty.” Sherlock did all that but didn’t know about the pretty.  
After about half an hour the cramps started and he stopped moving. He also needed to pee.

“Of course, we have helped you with a laxative. Just give in and let go.” Sherlock tried to hold back but the cramps forced him to void. His transport didn’t cooperate anymore and he soiled himself properly. His face burnt with shame and humiliation and he started to cry again. She looked at him and took the pacifier away.

“You know how to make it better.” He once sobbed and then started to plead.

“Please, mistress. Change my diaper and clean me. I’ll be good for you. Just please?”

“Not too bad.” She smiled.

“Crawl around a bit for me.” Sherlock did and felt everything move inside his diapers.

“Good boy. Now back on your blanket and hold your arse up.” He did and was cleaned. He thanked them when it was done. The woman broadly smiled.

“You really earned yourself a goodie. I will note it. Now we are stepping up a bit.” He was led by a leash into a luxury bedroom. His hands were tied on his back.

“Kneel on the bed.” Sherlock crawled up and knelt. The assistant rubbed over his nipples and finally screwed some clamps tightly around them. Sherlock’s eyes watered. It hurt. It was painful. But he was able to suppress his groans.

“Good boy.” She carded through his hair and he closed his eyes. He longed for these tender touches. Then she climbed on the bed. He saw she was naked. He swallowed. She was on her back and spread her legs.

“Now you are going to suck my cunt. Lick between my folds. Slurp out my fluids. Tickle my clit. Make me come and you will be rewarded. If you bite me, you will be severely punished. Did you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.” He lowered his head and moved a bit backwards to find a suitable position. He had never done such a thing. He had never been with a woman. Or a man.   
He swallowed. He could do this. At least she was clean and smelled nice. He gently licked her folds and sucked them up a bit. He poked the tip of his tongue on her clit and pressed. She twitched. Has this been good? He dared to look up from between her thighs. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up. He proceeded and finally stuck his tongue into her. He slurped, sucked, and kissed her. He also could hear her hard breathing and panting. She liked this.  
She mostly liked it when he pressed his tongue hard on her clit. He did it again quickly and several times. She screamed and bucked but he didn’t let go. She spurted all over his face and he knew what to do at once. He licked her clean while she came down again. After he was done, he got up into a kneeling position again.

“That was a fantastic job for a beginner. You are a fast learner and pleased me well. So, you will be rewarded. I let you use the loo.”

“Thank you, mistress.” She got up again and dressed in a bathrobe.

“Now I’ll leave you, pet, but my assistant will give you a good spanking. You have to get used to it. And we do, too. We need to know what works the best on your skinny body.” She grinned and left. Then man pulled at the leash and he climbed off the bed. He walked him over to an armchair and sat down. Then he pointed on his lap.  
Well, Sherlock wasn’t stupid. He placed himself over his thighs. His prick hung between his legs. The man folded his legs over Sherlock’s to secure him just in case he might kick around.

“I will start with ten. I want you to count and thank me.”

“Yes, master.” The first blow hit him right away and he yelped.

“One. Thank you, master.” The blows rained down on him. He hit both his cheeks and his thighs. The skin felt hot and it burnt. But he counted and thanked him. Tears ran down his face and he tried to suppress the sobbing.

“Very good. We can work up right away. I will use a paddle now and give you another ten. Same procedure, pet.” Sherlock swallowed.

Perhaps they would him reward with something more when he went through this as he was supposed to? He could do this. He could manage pain. He just hit his transport. It was nothing more. His soul was still hiding deep inside his mind palace. Deep down in the basement behind a locked door.

The blows with the paddle were more painful. His behind stung and felt hot. By now he openly cried. His toes scratched over the floor. But he counted and thanked the man.

“You will be perfect for us. Madam has been right about you. I doubted her, you know? But you already proofed it. You will be splendid and bring us a bloody fortune.” He giggled and stroked over Sherlock’s hot cheeks.

“Get up and stand facing the wall. Your arms go to the side.” Sherlock's hands were freed and he hurried to obey. Something was lowered down from the ceiling.

“Grab the bar, pet.” He did and the man tied his wrists to the bar. The thing was pulled up again until he stood on his tiptoes.

“OK, last round, pet. You did well and you will perform just as good for me now. I use the riding crop. Count and thank me again.” The riding crop was brutal and he almost screamed. He had tunnel vision but was able to count through it. He wondered if there was blood on his back.  
His head hung low and snot dribbled from his nose. The man lowered him slowly down on the floor until he knelt again.

“I send someone to take care of your welts. I will also report to Madam about your performance. She will be happy, let me tell you. You are such a good boy.” He carded his fingers through his hair and Sherlock was thankful. Yes, he was. Everything which doesn’t hurt was good. Wasn’t it?

The blindfold came back on again and he was led into a bathroom. A woman moved him under the spray and washed him. She also put some ointment on his back and bandaged him up. She didn’t speak though.   
After he was brought back in a room, there was the man.

“You may rest until dinner now. Sleep a while. Nothing will happen to you.”

“Thank you, master.” Sherlock whispered croakily. The man evilly grinned.

“You may take the blindfold off now.” He left the room and Sherlock ripped it off. He moved chest down on the bed and sighed. He closed his eyes and thought about John, Lestrade and even Mycroft. He knew they were looking for him. It was just a question of time.

He had to endure the so-called training. He could do it. He had to. He fell asleep.

***

Lestrade read through the forensics report for the hundredths time. And suddenly it hit him. He grabbed the box with evidence and the report. He raced down into the garage and jumped behind the wheel. With screeching tyres, he rode over to Baker Street. He called John while doing so.

“John, it’s me, Greg. Sally told me you went home again. Could you set up Sherlock’s laptop with all his evidence samples of leaves, mud and dirt?” John was baffled.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I am not sure yet. It’s just an idea. I’ll be with you in five minutes.” He used his siren, too. They hung up. John took Sherlock’s computer and pulled up the needed files. After four minutes he heard the siren and then Greg stomped up the stairs. He opened the door for him and he handed him the box. His jacket flew on the ground and both men sat in front of the computer.

“Do you know how his files work?” John asked Greg.

“Yes, I watched him often enough. Don’t you?” John shook his head.

“No, I hate excel spreadsheets with formulas. They tend to destroy themselves.” Greg shot him a grin and started to type. John kept watching him. He wondered what Sherlock would say. He let Lestrade use his laptop. He did Sherlock’s work. Suddenly he hit enter and leant back.

“This will take a bit.” They looked at each other and John did what he always did.

“Tea?” Greg just nodded and John prepared tea. He switched the kettle on, rinsed two mugs. Not Sherlock’s mug though. He took another one. He even found some cookies. Right when they settled down it knocked again and Mycroft just entered.

“You’ve got anything?” He asked looking at the laptop and then at the men. John munched on his cookie but Greg answered.

“Did you watch us?” Mycroft just nodded and tried to squeeze onto the sofa with them.

“Oi!” Greg shouted and pushed him away. Mycroft almost stumbled and the hurt look on his face was very much Sherlock’s expression. John just looked at him and moved to the side.

“Come here. Greg is using Sherlock’s database. He brought the evidence we collected and now tries to find a connection, a place, a something.” Mycroft looked at Greg.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Greg smiled and shoved a cookie into his mouth.

“Because you don’t like his work and do not take it seriously.” John made tea for Mycroft, too.

“Thank you, John.” He looked at Greg.

“How long will this take?” Greg shrugged.

“I have no idea. It might take one hour or it might take ten. I have no idea. His database is huge.”

“I wonder why they don’t contact us. I mean, if they just wanted to kill him, they could have done it right there. They wouldn’t put him into a cage and carry him off.” John thought aloud.

“Well, he is a good-looking bloke.” Greg mused looking at the screen. Both John and Mycroft looked at him. John swallowed. He didn’t comment though. Greg shot him a look.

“Oh, come on, John. Everybody knows you adore him. Just admit it now and use your anger to help. Channel your emotions.”

“Next you will tell me to use the force?” Both men grinned. Mycroft didn’t get it at all.

“What force?” They looked at him.

“Never mind.” The laptop dinged and showed an open window with results. Greg enlarged it and all of them looked at it.

“Obviously the mud is from some weird place in Scotland. The leaves do fit, too. There were traces of animal poo. They belong to a certain sheep which also lives up there. Only up there.”

“Can you narrow it down? The area?” Mycroft stared at Greg and Greg nodded.

“Yes.” He clicked on the results and a map opened. They all looked at it. It was a radius of fifty miles around a small town called Loch Moray. John stood.

“When are we leaving?” Mycroft stood, too.

“You don’t leave this flat, John. Someone has to stay here. Just in case.” John snorted.

“Just in case what? They return him in a body bag? Mrs Hudson can watch the flat. I will go up there.”

“And so will I.” Greg joined in, too. Mycroft looked at them and worried his lips.

“I’ll have special ops join us. You were never there. You didn’t see anything. No troops, no me, no nothing. There will an unmarked car picking you up tonight. We will be flying in an unmarked helicopter. Don’t bring your weapons. You will be given some. I will provide clothes you will dress into before being picked up.” Mycroft checked his watch. “Expect the car at around 7 at Baker Street and 7.30 at your place, Gregory.” John almost saluted him. Instead, he just nodded and so did Greg.

“Print me that list, please.” Greg did and Mycroft stuffed it into his pocket. Then he wanted to rush away but Greg held on to his arm.

“Wait, please?” Mycroft looked at Greg.

“What?” Slowly Greg reached out and wiped away some chocolate from the cookie from Mycroft’s lips. The men looked at each other.

“We’ll find him.” Mycroft just nodded and a very small smile tugged up his lips. Then he reached up and took Greg’s hand. He once firmly pressed it, nodded to John, and left.

“We will safe him, John. Whatever the costs are.”

“For us or for him?” John only whispered it.

“He is very strong, John. I know him for years. He will survive. He knows we will be looking for him. He knows you will be coming for him.”

“I can’t lose him, Greg. I just can’t.” They looked at each other and Greg saw the tears in John’s eyes.

“You love him.” He just stated a fact. John just nodded and angrily wiped over his eyes.

“Yes, I do. I wanted to tell him for a long time. But I was afraid he wouldn’t like it. I didn’t want to lose him, so I didn’t admit my feelings for him.” Greg smiled.

“I think you don’t have to be afraid. The way he looks at you, I mean he simply likes you a lot.” John looked surprised.

“You think?” Greg nodded.

“Absolutely.” Greg just said leaving a confused John behind who rushed into the shower and prepared himself mentally. By the time the clothes were brought he was in combat mode.


	5. Chapter Five

Sherlock woke because someone pinched his cheek. His eyes fluttered open and he saw his mistress.

“Wakey, wakey, pet! Get up and join me for breakfast!” He quickly sat up and rubbed once over his eyes.

“Forgive me, mistress.” She smiled.

“It’s all fine. Go and use the bathroom. You are allowed from now on. I’ll expect you outside and ready in five minutes.” Sherlock bowed and hurried along. He quickly used the loo and freshened up a bit. He refrained from looking into the mirror.  
Right on time, he walked back outside. She looked at him. Finally, she nodded and hooked the leash to his collar.

“Hold this.” He took the folded leash between his teeth while she cuffed his hands on his back.

“Trot along, pet.” She took the leash and he obediently followed her. She made him kneel by her side again and started to feed him toast and scrambled eggs. The eggs were cooked too long and he didn’t like it. But he ate it. He would make John do mushy eggs for him when he was back.   
John.

How long had he been held captive here? Why did it take them so long to find him?

She made him lick her fingers clean and then allowed him a cup of coffee. It was plain black and he looked up. Would she allow him sugar and milk? Perhaps if he asked nicely? He licked his lips and she expectantly looked at him.

“What would you like, pet? Hm?”

“I politely ask for sugar and milk, mistress.” She grinned. Then she took milk and poured some into his coffee. It was followed by two sugars. He licked his lips. She used a spoon and mixed it all up before she handed it down to him. He gratefully took it.

“Thank you, mistress.”

“Since you are such a wonderful pet and behave well, I see no reason to not allow you this. You perform splendidly. Today we will be having another training session.” Sherlock’s soul pressed against the wall of the room he hid inside his mind palace. His mask to the outside didn’t show anything. Instead, he quietly drank his coffee sitting on his heels.

“Aren’t you just a bit curious?” Did she want him to ask?

“What will be done to me today, mistress? Please let me know?”

“Today we will strap you into a fucking machine for a bit. Later on, we will use sounds and weights. You have to get used to having something into your arse all the time. As soon as you are sold, you won’t have any minute without.” She giggled.

“We will milk you dry today. We will torment you as long as it takes for you to beg for mercy.” Sherlock swallowed. He had no way to escape. He must concentrate on his soul. His transport wasn’t important. He would survive this.

She looked at him for a few seconds before she stroked over his hair and face. He didn’t even twitch away anymore.

“At first we will have to clean you out. My assistant will give you an enema. Perhaps two, if needed. He will repeat the action as long as it takes for you to do it right.” Right then he showed up and she gagged him with a penis-shaped gag. He was pressed on the floor in the bathroom and some lube was applied on his hole.

“It will feel a bit cold and strange. I fill you with about one litre of lukewarm water and then rub over your stomach. You will experience some pain but it will stop soon enough. You have to hold out for about 20 minutes until you may void your bowels. If you lose it beforehand and you soil the floor, you will have to clean it and I will repeat it. Did you understand?” Sherlock nodded. He never had an enema. But he knew he had control over his transport.

Then there were fingers probing and a plastic thing was moved into him. Warm water began to fill him up. It gurgled and didn’t feel nice. The man’s hands were rubbing over his stomach which was extended a bit and felt awfully full. Sherlock closed his eyes and concentrated on the cramps running throw his bowels. He groaned into the gag.

“You are doing very well, pet. Just hold it.” Sherlock did hold it in and the plastic was removed.

“Stand up carefully. I’ll remove your cuffs and you may use the toilet. Just let go and take a shower afterwards. I want you clean, pet. When you are ready, just come outside again.” He was lifted up and Sherlock clenched his arse shut. Nothing dribbled outside. The man placed him on the toilet and left.

Sherlock relaxed and closed his eyes. Then he let go. His face was red and hot. He felt ashamed. It took him at least ten minutes until he was done. He flushed several times and felt exhausted afterwards. He also was sweaty.   
He walked into the shower and suddenly he heard the man’s voice.

“Madame wants your hair soft and silky. You may take off the gag. Use conditioner.” At once Sherlock undid the gag and his jaw cracked. He threw the hateful thing into the sink. He indulged in the shower all alone. He took care of his transport.  
He stepped out of the room when he was done. The man looked him over.

“Come here and bend over the armrest.” He pointed to the sofa and Sherlock did as being told. He even spread his legs making the man laugh quietly. Sherlock heard him don gloves and then his hands were on his cheeks.

“Hands go folded on your nape, pet.” His hole got touched and inspected.

“Very good, pet. Well done. Madame will be proud. Now first of all I will introduce you to the fucking machine. Get up and kneel over there.” Sherlock knelt on the ground and went down on his hands and knees when being told to. Something got propped up behind and over him. It caged him in slowly when being adjusted to his body.

“Grab the handles.” His wrists got tied into it and so did his ankles. His chin rested on a piece of metal. A leather strap went around his forehead. His prick hung low. The man pinched it.

“Very sad. This has to change. Well, I will see to it.” Sherlock could hear him move behind him. Then there were fingers parting his cheeks. Something poked on his hole and he tensed.

“Give in or it will hurt.” Sherlock tried to relax and was breached by something large. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly through the ordeal. He felt stuffed like a Christmas goose and he was sweating.

“Very good, slut. You took it all. You surprised me.” Sherlock heard a click and the thing started to move inside him. It kept rubbing over his prostate and also moved backwards and forwards. The pleasure it brought was immense. And soon Sherlock’s transport started to like this a lot. His cock started to swell and grow and it leaked, too.

“That is starting to look good, slut. Now some more for you to take.” Another implement was placed in front of him.

“Open your mouth.” He did and another dildo was shoved into him. It started to move, too, and Sherlock’s throat got fucked. The man circled him and stroked over his sweaty body. The thing in his back moved and turned slowly. Sherlock panted around the fat thing in his mouth.

“Oh, you are doing very well. Madam will be so very pleased; I can tell you already.” Sherlock’s arms shook. His whole body was tense. His brain tried to understand what was happening to his transport. His soul tore at his brain to shut down. His soul turned the key in the lock to his hiding place several times. Suddenly there were several bars preventing the door being opened from the outside. They had rather large locks.

“You are finally responding, slut. You are dripping. It’s such a sight.” Sherlock felt his cock being hard. It throbbed.

“I think we can start milking you.” The speed slowed but the head kept constantly rubbing over his prostate. His semen just dribbled out without a break. Something was held beneath it and was filled several times to the brim.

After quite some time Sherlock’s vision blurred and he groaned. His eyes fluttered. The moving both inside his mouth and arse stopped. The things were taken away. He was lifted up but didn’t manage to stand. His hole clenched around nothing.

“Hands and knees, pet. Now!” A slap hit his arse and he groaned. He managed to get up but his head hung low. A plug was shoved into him again and straps went around his thighs. Fingers pulled his balls back and something was attached to his transport. Something wooden pressed against his arse and his testicles stuck inside. Every move he made hurt now and he trembled while trying to stay still. A harness came around his head with a ring gag attached to it. It forced his mouth open and his head back when it got attached to the board around his balls. He groaned painfully and drooled. Two fingers were put on his tongue and he started to lick without having been told to do so.

“Oh, you are a slut by nature. It only needed some training. Now crawl around a bit. I want to see you.” Sherlock carefully moved and tore at his balls every second during his predicament. Tears fell out of his eyes and his nose was clotted with snot.

“Get on your knees. Forehead on the ground. Arse goes up.” Sherlock obeyed and it hurt like hell. The man cuffed his hands again on his back and started to pull at his prick until it hardened again.

“Pain slut, very well trained.” He pulled him back up and knelt in front of him. Something pressed on his slit and was moved in and out. He fucked his cock with something. The pleasure was breath-taking but still, Sherlock didn't want to look at what was going on. The man moved up three sizes until he was pleased. Then something filled his prick. Some fluid was pressed through the rod and into his cock.

“Madam said you already sucked cunt. You may try something else now.” He stepped up close and held his cock to Sherlock’s forced open mouth. Sherlock’s tongue moved over the head. There wasn’t more he could do with that horrid ring-gag behind his teeth that forced his mouth wide open.

“I am sure you can do more.” The man took away the gag. Sherlock held his mouth open and the man shoved his prick inside.

“Just relax and open up. Swallow and press your tongue against the underside. I’ll do the rest.” The man snickered when he started to fuck his throat. Sherlock wheezed and cried. He wasn’t able to breathe and his nose was pressed against the man’s pubic hair. After quite a long time while the man shouted roughly, pulled his hair, and called him names, he finally came down his throat. And Sherlock swallowed and shook to the core. He closed his eyes but his hair got pulled.

“Eyes on me, pet!” He looked up. The man took away the wooden board and Sherlock relaxed a bit.

“Sit on your heels and watch it, slut.” He started to push the rod in and out again until Sherlock panted and moaned against his will. This was amazing. He had had no idea. He only ever wanked when it became unbearable but this was bliss. Paradise.

“You may come for me now, slut. Go on and pulse!” He pulled it out and Sherlock spurted. The formerly injected stuff spilt out of him and didn’t stop for a while. It started to hurt and he shed some tears again. He wasn’t able to stop coming and paradise was over.

“Please make it stop. Please, master, it’s … Oh, God!” Sherlock yelled and spurted some more. The man grinned and slapped his face.

“Everything we milked from you was put back into you. And now you’ve got second-hand cum all over the place.” He almost giggled.

Sherlock didn’t note that he was freed. He suffered tunnel vision and nausea. His soul was pressed against the wall in his hideaway. It kept screaming for John.

***

John and Greg sat in the back of the unmarked helicopter and were taken up north. They held some papers on their laps showing their target. It was a huge mansion, more like a smallish castle. Opposite of them sat the team-leader. SAS, John assumed. Not on official duty tonight though. He held his hand up and showed John four. So, four minutes until takedown. He nudged Greg who looked a bit pale.  
After the helicopter had landed, they entered a Jeep and reached a tent in the wilderness. There were more soldiers. Finally, John was handed several weapons and so was Greg. John checked through them knowing his stuff. And he had to admit that he had missed this. The moves came back at once and he felt a tingling going through his body.  
Greg had a bit to do but managed finally. He still felt a bit sick from the ride. An officer handed over some water and he thankfully took it.

“So, what does surveillance tell us?” John moved the gun to his back and just asked. They were shown over to a monitor.

“This is what we’ve got. There isn’t much movement around the house. Normally no one leaves it for days. The same with people coming in. We haven’t had any sign of Sherlock Holmes.”

“What about the insides?”

“We have old plans of the house.”

“Whom does it belong to?”

“Some odd Adler Enterprises. We have our best IT people on it but this company is better protected than anything we ever dealt with.” Now Greg looked up.

“Adler Enterprises as in Ian and Irene Adler?” The man nodded.

“Yes, do you know anything?” Greg sadly nodded.

“Yes, I do. They are brother and sister. They ran a brothel in the past. Now they own several. They specialised on the most perverted practices you could imagine. There are rumours about trafficking and snuff videos.” John had paled.

“Oh, God. They have Sherlock …” Silence crept in. It took John a few minutes to shake it off but he made it. He straightened and looked at the officer.

“What is your plan of attack?” The man sighed and carefully turned around. Greg raised his brows.

“We have to wait until Mr Holmes joins us. He insisted on joining us when going in.”

“What?” Both John and Greg asked and shook their head.

“No way. He can’t.” Greg gnawed on his lip.

“You shouldn’t underestimate him, Greg.” John shook his head.

“John is right, Greg. There is no way to stop me getting to Sherlock.” Mycroft had just appeared out of nowhere and John very seriously looked at him.

“I just might be a step in front of you, Mycroft. Stay with me all the time. Promise.” Mycroft looked at him and finally gave in.

“OK.”

“Are you armed?” Mycroft showed his own weapons. John seriously looked at him.

“Don’t stand in my way.”

“I won’t.” Both Greg and the officer watched their exchange and both men were rather shocked.

“Have you brought the intel we needed, Sir?” Mycroft nodded and put a data stick into the computer. It showed x-rays of the inside. At least of the rooms in the front. There were signs of large rooms in the basement, too, but they weren’t able to look into.

“Why don’t we pretend to be guests to their games?” Greg suddenly asked. Everyone looked at him.

“How?” Mycroft asked.

“I mean, we know what this place is about. There must be a homepage you could book amenities.”

“Amenities.” John breathed the word out.

“We don’t know if they know us.” He looked at Greg.

“They sure know me.” Mycroft assumed.

“What about you?” The officer looked.

“How should they know about me?”

“It’s decided then. We will book an arrangement from your private computer and you will dress up and go in there.”

“I’ll get it.” He really did and pulled up the site. The special news required a login. He registered with his correct private data. As soon as it had been confirmed he was able to see everything. There was an auction coming up. A virgin was on the market, a 38-year-old virgin. Male. John swallowed and Mycroft wiped over his forehead. Greg had paled.

“Fuck.” They all had the same thought but John had voiced it.

“I’ll have a black AE card provided for you. Clothes will be brought, too. You will be ready to go by tomorrow noon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

***

Sherlock was brought back into his room. He was cuffed to the bed again. He didn’t notice. His mind though was racing. It was connected to his soul. It crouched in the hiding-place. It kept calling out for John.

Sherlock was dreaming of John. John who came to the rescue. John who killed his tormentors. John who helped him get dressed. And who led him outside.

When Sherlock woke, he was hard. Why was he hard? His cock still hurt because of the treatment he received. At least he still was alone in his room. He also felt a diaper around his arse. They didn’t want him to soil the bed then. He couldn’t get up and he needed to pee. But mistress allowed him to use the bathroom. So, what had he done wrong?  
He had only been praised.  
Suddenly the door burst open and mistress came inside.

“There you are, princess. I missed you.” She took the cuffs away and also the diaper. She pointed to the bathroom and he hurried along.

“Thank you, mistress.” When he was back, she made him kneel right in front of her. His hands went on his nape all alone.

“Perfect, princess.” Another woman entered the room clad in a maiden’s dress. She was collared, too. She carried a tray with a bowl on top. A straw was put inside. The woman took the bowl and told her to go away. She bowed and left without a word.

“Suck this.” Sherlock looked down and saw what it was. He swallowed.

“You swallowed before and it wasn’t even your own. This is your own and I had it even heated up for you. So?”

“Thank you, mistress.” She nodded and he took the straw. He started to suck until the bowl was empty.

“Slut.”

“Thank you, mistress.”

“I want to see you getting hard for me, princess. Go on.” She looked at his hanging prick. Sherlock was clueless. How was he supposed to get hard without any stimulation? He thought about John who watched porn. And when thinking about John it twitched. Sherlock was surprised. John was always there to help.  
He kept thinking about the one time he watched him sleep. The other time he had sneaked into the bathroom when he had taken a bath. He hadn’t noticed since his eyes were closed and he had music on his ears. He imagined his muscled body, his tanned skin, and his tattoo. He spotted a raging hard-on.

“Very good, slut. Now tell me, why are you hard?”

“Because you want me to.” She snickered.

“Very good, slut. And what would you do, so I give you a reward again?”

“Anything, mistress.” She grinned.

“Ever heard of pony-play?” He carefully shook his head and she clapped her hands.

“Perfect!” She turned her back on him and yelled.

“Get him into the stables!” A man hooked the leash to his collar and he got up. He was brought downstairs and out through the back-door. He could smell the horses. So, there were real horses. The man shoved him into a box and took off the collar and the leash. He cuffed his hands to the side of the box and he knelt on the straw. He attached a harness with a bit-gag. Another harness came around his chest. A plug was worked into his arse and strapped to it. It was made into a tail. The hair touched his thighs and it felt oddly weird. Everything got connected. His arms got tied behind his back over his elbows and around his wrists so his chest stood out. Little bells on clamps came on his nipples and were screwed tight. He was helped into boots afterwards. They were rather high due to the horse-shoes beneath them. His head was pulled back until he held it up high. A rope reached from a d-ring on his harness to his tied arms.

“Stomp, Black Beauty.” The man ordered him and he stomped on the spot.

“The knees go way up high. Again.” He got slapped and obeyed. He raised his knees up and stomped some more.

“Move forward.” A rope was attached to his bit and he was pulled outside.

“Keep stomping. All the way.” He stomped until they were outside on the lawn. It was a part that was fenced. The man gave him some rope and made him stomp around in circles.

“Faster!” Sherlock moved for several rounds.

“Run!” He started to run but stumbled after some minutes. He couldn’t protect himself and fell chest forward onto the grass. He groaned when he clamps pressed into his flesh. The man was right by his side and hit him with the riding crop.

“Get up, you useless piece of horse! Now you are all dirty and need to get cleaned! But first you will move some more. Let me hear the bells chime! Move!” Another hit with the crop and Sherlock started to run again. This time it worked better.  
After many, many rounds he was led back into the box.

“I don’t see that you have earned your food. I will clean you and you will rest.” He took a hose and soaked him in cold water. Sherlock shivered badly. He was cold.

“You are not allowed to lie on your back. You are supposed to be a horse, so you have to stand. I’ll help with that.” He hooked some carabineers around his harness and hung him to a wooden frame which made him stand.

“If you need to pee or else just let go. The boxes are cleaned regularly.” Then he left and Sherlock was all alone. He listened until he wasn’t able to hear anything and only then started to sob and cry. Again, he thought of John. But then he imagined John being disgusted. If he would ever find out that Sherlock participated, he would run away screaming. He hadn’t fought and tried to run away. John would leave Baker Street. He would leave him. He sobbed some more.

His soul cried, too. His transport hurt. He shook and he was cold. He wasn’t able to relax being held in this position.

Hours later he needed to pee. After many, many hours the man came back. Sherlock heard something roll over the ground.

“It’s time to get to work. We will bring some apples into the mansion.” He released him from his hold only to attach the cart to his body. Now he was a working horse pulling a smallish cart with baskets on it. Still empty by now.

“Move. You know how.” Sherlock started to stomp knee-high out of the stable pulling the cart. The man attached another rope to his harness.

“And since we are going out, you have to look pretty.” He used thin leather strips around and between his testicles. Little bells hung on that, too. More small bells came on the harness. It felt like Christmas. The man looked rather pleased and climbed on the cart. He once pulled and Sherlock’s head was forced back. It chimed.

“You may hurry along a bit.” He flapped the reins and Sherlock started to run. The man on the cart was rather heavy and the path was leading a bit upwards. Soon he was sweating and he felt his tail moving behind him. Also, the tiny bells went on his nerves rather strongly.  
The man pulled the rein to the right and Sherlock moved into another path. Finally, he was stopped. He drooled badly and trembled.

“Very good. Just stay.” The man moved between the apple trees and Sherlock heard him yell.

“Get me some baskets full of those apples. There is a cart. Move!” People with tied ankles came from inside the orchard carrying apples. They were emptied into the baskets. They greedily looked at him. Soon enough the first one touched his body and Sherlock tried to kick him. Two of them just bound his ankles and held him up. The third one started to touch his cock. He pulled and touched him roughly. He also squeezed his testicles. And his body betrayed him again. He got hard.

“See the horsey? It’s hard. It wants to be bred.” They all roughly laughed. He poked on his screwed nipples and flicked them. Sherlock yelled. He hurt. Everything hurt. They even moved his tail inside and out again.  
He tried to beg with them but to no avail. When they were finally pleased with his performance, they came all over his body and threw some apples at him. It hurt. At last they took the rope around his ankles away so he couldn’t fall.

He cried. He was desperate. He was dirty. Used.

John wouldn’t come to the rescue. He would turn around right away when he saw him like this. He was lost.

He lost it.

Everything went black.


	6. Chapter Six

Sherlock woke to the voice of his mistress. She was angry. He cringed.

“You left him alone in the orchard with those brutes? You can be glad that he didn’t get raped. It would have cost you dearly. You may stay here but you will serve for a fortnight in the brothel.” Sherlock wondered what this person counted as rape...

“Thank you, mistress.” He heard steps leave and then her touch on his skin. He twitched.

“Open your eyes, princess.” Sherlock obeyed. He had no choice. Only now he saw that he was inside and even in a comfortable bed. He wasn’t tied. He was clean, too.

“I want you to eat dinner now. Sit up and rest against the headrest.” He did.

“Thank you, mistress.” She handed him a plate and he ate some sandwiches.

“Now tell me, princess. Are you still hurt? Any pain? Any discomfort?”

“No, mistress. Thank you, mistress.” She kept looking at him.

“The auction will take place tonight. We have to make you presentable. Please finish your meal.” He was handed a bowl with soup.

“You will be prepared and made ready. I expect you to perform splendidly. Just do as being told.”

“Yes, mistress.” She nodded.

“Very well. Rest for another few hours. My assistants will be back to you and bring you into the salon for your performance.”

“Yes, mistress.” She left and he closed his eyes.

JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN. JOHN.

***

Sherlock was bathed. His hair was washed. He got shaved everywhere. They brought him a rather fine suit and he was surprised. He only got collared. When they were done with him, the woman appeared again and looked him over.

“So very beautiful for me, princess. Your handlers will bring you downstairs now. I will be with you right away. There will be a curtain. Behind it, several interested parties will be waiting for you. Just stand there and look beautiful. Do what you are told to.”

“Yes, mistress.” He was led downstairs and stared at the red velvet fabric before his eyes. He could hear the voices murmur behind it.

“Look on the floor.” Sherlock at once lowered his gaze. A voice announced the beginning of the auction and the curtain slowly went up. Bright light was placed on Sherlock and the crowd murmured praises. The woman came on stage now, too.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t need to tell you what is taking place here right now. The starting bid is 20.000 pounds.” She looked around and waited for an offer.

“25.000 but show us more!” The crowd cheered and she turned to Sherlock.

“Get out of your jacket, pet.” Sherlock shed it and knew how this was going to end.

“35.000 and his shirt goes off!” A man shouted and the woman nodded to Sherlock who buttoned his shirt off and threw it on the floor and on his jacket. Now the voices were remarkably admiring.

“Turn around once, pet.” Sherlock turned. He felt ashamed and hot and humiliated. His soul still cried out for John but it had become quieter.

“40.000 for shoes and socks.” Laughter came up. After another nod, he toed them off.

“Let him walk around a bit!” A woman ordered from between the crowd. His mistress swatted his arse and he moved once over the stage from the middle to the right and back to the left ending up beside his mistress again.

“45.000 and getting closer. I want the trousers!” Sherlock opened his belt, button and opened his flies. He juggled his hips and the crowd hooted. The trousers fell down and he pushed them away. Now he was only clad in silken black boxers. The audience was eerily quiet for several seconds but then became excited.

“60.000!” A man yelled and the woman on stage grinned and nodded. Sherlock got rid of the last item of clothing. The crowd was absolutely quiet. The woman looked at Sherlock and whispered close to his ear.

“Hands folded on your nape! Spread your legs and show them your greedy, little prick.” He blushed some more but tried to do so. Again, he was thinking of John. He didn’t give up his hope even though it was against all odds.

He was hard and leaking.

“70.000!” She made him turn around and present himself.

“85.000!” His soul had become hoarse but it still kept screaming. It even pounded the walls of the hidden room by now. Sherlock’s transport stood on the stage and nothing showed his inner turmoil.

***

Mycroft’s agent stood rather close to the stage and watched Sherlock’s ordeal. He felt cold and clammy. He hadn’t bid until now. He would overbid everyone when it was time. He pitied Mr Holmes’ younger brother. He looked well contained but if he really was a virgin, he must be desperate. And even if he wasn't, this could be just too much to bear.

He wished he would be able to give him a sign of hope but it wasn’t possible. If necessary, he would buy him and carry him outside slung over his shoulder.

The bidding reached 125.000 and he perked up again. Some had given up and now there were only three men and one woman left who bit their lips and looked really thoughtful. Suddenly one man gave up, too, followed by the woman. That left two men and himself. He looked them over to be able to give a proper description. The woman on stage looked at them.

“Perhaps it needs a proper performance to make a decision?” All of them nodded. Her assistant came on stage and made Sherlock kneel in front of him. Sherlock’s hands were on his nape and he opened his mouth. The man shoved his cock into him and started to fuck his throat right there and then. He swallowed around him and breathed through his nose whenever possible. And he swallowed everything when he came after only a few minutes. He sighed. Sherlock’s throat hurt but he cleaned his prick and kept kneeling straight.

“130.000!” One man shouted being aroused.

“150.000!” The woman on stage grinned as the second man gave up. That left only one man and Mycroft’s spy. The other man looked very triumphant and even made a step forward. The agent knew he held a no-limit card. He made two steps forward.

“200.000!” The other man gaped at him and simply shook his head. The woman looked at him.

“Are you sure?” He nodded and turned away.

“Well, there you are. You will have the honour to deflower this male virgin of 38 tonight or whenever you like. Please follow me into my office.” She gestured to him and he followed her quickly. He wanted to grab the poor sod and leave as soon as possible. On his way, he was congratulated and complimented a lot. He smiled at the people while at the same time he wished he could kill them all. Sick fucks.

Sherlock wondered if he could dress again but didn’t dare move. The assistant picked up his clothes and he was led away.

“Please freshen up a bit. We want you to be clean and proper. Plus, you don’t know whenever you could wash yourself again.” Sherlock swallowed but disappeared into the bath. When he was done, he dressed again and was brought into the office. He still wore the collar and was made to stand beside his new owner. As soon as he entered the man turned in his seat and gave him a once over.

“Please remove his collar. I will have one made for him.” It was taken away.

“Well, thanks a lot then. Have fun!” The woman waved and the man took Sherlock’s wrist and pulled him along.

“Just come with me and don’t make a fuss, OK?”

“No, master.” Sherlock obediently followed him into a waiting car. He sat down. And suddenly he eyed a jelly bean on the ground. How? Could it be? But how? His mind was spinning and he stared at it. His soul sat up straight again. He looked at the man.

“Who are you?” He put a finger on his lips.

“Not now. Please be quiet.” His soul had stood and stared at the locked door. Could it really be?

The car left the premises and drove rather quickly into the night. The man didn’t talk at all until the car stopped after a two hours ride. He just couldn't. He had no idea how to talk to him or how to even soothe him.

Now Sherlock could see several cars and tents. And people. He looked at him again. The man looked more relaxed, too.

“I am sorry for keeping you in the dark for so long, Mr Holmes. Your brother sent me. He is out there with both DI Lestrade and Captain Watson.” Sherlock’s face showed no emotion but his soul did the happy dance.

“John. John was here. John came to help. They didn’t give up on me.” He looked at the man.

“Could you please go and get my brother? No one else, please.” His voice was throaty and he only whispered. The man looked surprised.

“But …”

“Just please?” The man looked hurt.

“Please don’t beg like this, Sir. I’ll go and fetch him. Just stay inside the car.”

“Yes, master.” It came out automatically and Sherlock didn’t realise what he had said. The man flinched but left the car. Outside and a few feet away they were waiting. He quickly hurried over. John was trembling and looked at him.

“Is he OK?”

“I am not sure. He only wants to see his brother. I think he needs help. Psychologically. He also needs to rest and eat and drink.” Mycroft looked surprised now, too. He looked at John.

“I’ll go and see what’s up. I am sure he will explain everything and you will be able to see him soon.” John looked helpless but stayed back. Mycroft walked up to the car and carefully opened the door. He looked inside and saw his younger brother. He didn’t react.

“Sherlock?” His voice was tender. It was low and quiet. And it made Sherlock look at him. At once, he started to cry and shake all over. Quickly Mycroft entered the car and sat by his side. The door fell closed behind him. Sherlock crouched by his side and tried to hug him.

“I am used. I am a pet. I performed well and was rewarded. John will never look at me again. I am dirty. I am used. I am …” He kept ranting the same lines over and over again.

“Sherlock, please stop. You went through horrible things. But please come down and try to tell me what you need.”

“I was hiding in the basement of my mind palace. I fled down there and locked the door. I was thinking of John. I was sure, he would be coming for me. But now my transport is broken, Mycroft.” He looked at his older brother and was handed a tissue.

“Blow your nose, please.” Sherlock took it.

“Thank you, master.” Mycroft hissed and Sherlock blew his nose.

“See what I mean? I can’t control it. They beat it into me. I did what they wanted. Do you want to know what I had to do? Do you really?”

“I need to know. But don’t you really want to speak to John?” Sherlock shook his head.

“I can’t. I can’t let him see me like this. I longed for him, I screamed his name in the basement, but now I am not able to face him.”

“He won’t understand, brother-mine. Won’t you even try for him?” But Sherlock shook his head and wiped over his eyes.

“OK, I try to talk to him. What do you need? My agent said you need healthcare, food and drink?”

“I really need some undisturbed sleep. I am also hungry and thirsty.”

“I’ve got a medic in the camp and I am not talking about John. I suppose you want me to bring your food in here?”

“Please, ma … Myc.” Mycroft swallowed hard.

“OK, whatever you want, whatever you need. I’ll make him understand. By the way, Greg is here, too. He will take care of John.”

“Greg is here?” Sherlock looked surprised. A very small smile showed.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. We will leave as quick as possible.” Mycroft opened the door and hurried over to John and Greg. John looked at him but Mycroft shook his head.

“John, he thinks you mustn’t see him because he is used and dirty. He can’t stand being with you right now. He is only worried about you.”

“What have they done to him …” He whispered and his anger radiated off of him.

“He just called me master. I think it’s for the better if Greg takes over.”

“Why?” John really tried to understand.

“Because I have seen him at his worst. I found him drugged to death in a warehouse. I saw him during rehab. I saw him dirty, unwashed, and high. And he knows that.” Mycroft nodded.

“Right. Now he only tries to protect your relationship. He is afraid that you won’t like him anymore if you see him like he is now. He is worried about you leaving Baker Street. So just take your time, please.”

“But that’s utter nonsense. I only wish to be here for him, to take care of his wounds. Inside and outside. He should know that.”

“He hid inside his mind palace and waited for you.”

“What?”

“His soul did.” Greg said.

“He is able to divide his soul from his body, his transport. That’s how he survived this shit.”

“He just told me he screamed for you.” John tiredly rubbed over his face.

“So, I just have to be patient?” Greg and Mycroft both nodded.

“I can’t. When are we going to storm that place? Let me go in with the troops at least, so I can concentrate on something else.” Mycroft thought about it for a second.

“Just go and talk to Major Monroe. He’ll take you with him.”

“Thanks.” He turned around and left.

“OK, I’ll go and find some food for Sherlock. Soup would be good, I suppose.”

“Yes, indeed, Gregory. Try to find something sweet for him, too.”

“Please don’t call me Gregory.” Mycroft looked surprised which was a rare sight.

“Why not? It’s your given name.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, I do.” Mycroft smiled and left for the soldiers. Greg stared at his retreating back and felt weird. He shook it off and went to find food. He got a container with soup, bread, fruits, and a candy bar which he carried over to the car. He knocked on the window before opening it.

Sherlock was pressed into the opposite corner and looked at him. He relaxed when he recognised him.

“Greg …” Greg placed the food between them and sat down. He pulled the door closed.

“Sherlock, I am glad you are alive. We were all very worried about you.”

“I am glad and thankful that you are here, Greg. I really am.”

“Please eat this, OK?” Sherlock took the container on his lap and slowly ate the soup. In fact, he ate everything Greg brought. After he was done, he looked at him.

“Where is John?”

“He left with the soldiers. I think he will go on a rampage.” Sherlock thinly smiled.

“I knew it, I imagined it during my, my stay. I do believe he is frustrated and disappointed with me now?”

“He doesn’t understand. He only wanted to see you and take care of you.”

“He can’t want that. It’s impossible.”

“He just told me, he wanted to take care of you, both inside and outside. I think he likes you a lot.”

“Maybe he did.” Greg seriously looked at Sherlock.

“He still does. Please believe me.” Sherlock had devoured everything and was now sucking the chocolate off the candy bar.

“I really would like to go home.”

“You can’t stay alone at Baker Street. No way, Sherlock.”

“You could come with me.”

“Just please, don’t leave John behind. Wait until the action is over.”

“I can’t stay in the car all the time.”

“Mycroft provided a place already, a tent actually. There are fresh clothes, a cot and everything. If you want me to stay with you, I will.” Sherlock just nodded.

“OK. I’ll go and have a look if everything has been set up. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.” Greg smiled sadly. He left the car and walked over to the place Mycroft had pointed out earlier. He saw that everything was fine and went back to pick up Sherlock. He told the driver to move the car as close as possible to the tent, so Sherlock wouldn’t have to meet too many people. Or rather wouldn’t be seen by too many people.  
He left the car and reached out inside when Sherlock didn't move. It took him several minutes to coax him out of the car but then he quickly ushered him inside.

“You should rest now.” Sherlock looked at the smallish cot and then at Greg.

“Will you stay?”

“Sure thing. Let me help you change, OK?” He reached out for him and saw him pale.

“It’s me. Don’t be scared.” Suddenly Sherlock ripped off his jacket and shirt and panted.

“Hush. Sit down.” He made him sit on the cot and put a hoodie over his head. He moved him back until he rested. Then he quickly changed his dressing trousers into some comfy sweatpants.

“Blanket.” Sherlock had a sweaty forehead by then and shivered. He also was as pale as the walking dead. Greg took a blanket and then took a second one. Sherlock pulled them up to his chin and sighed.

“Better?” He nodded.

“Yes. Thank you so much. Please stay.”

“I am not leaving your side. Try to sleep.” And he really closed his eyes.

“Where is John?” He suddenly murmured.

“He already left with the troops. He is ready to kill them all, be assured of that.” Sherlock shuddered and fell asleep.

***

Major Monroe introduced John to his troops. They all accepted his presence due to his military background and his obvious skills. Otherwise, Mycroft Holmes wouldn’t have allowed him in. They were gathering at the edge of the premises and listened to their commanding officer over the headphones. Some stayed at the gate to stop fleeing personal or guests. The rest entered the grounds at several places over the walls, fences, and lawns at the back. Every car they passed by was made unusable by stabbing the tyres. John was almost the first to enter the house. Right there in the hall, they met some security. They shot at once. There wasn’t a warning. They moved on like that until dead bodies plastered their way.

John had followed the agent who had been rescuing Sherlock. He led them to the room with the stage. The room was empty except for some collared and gagged slaves who cleaned up. The non-collared people didn’t make a fuss at all. They all quietly settled down. The collared people all looked very much relieved.

They pointed the way to the woman in charge. She was upstairs shagging her partner and celebrating. John grinned. Oh yes, he would soon be celebrating, too. Hard. Intense. Cold. Deadly.

He stood in front of her door and looked at the agent. He nodded and John kicked the door. They burst into the room. The couple was rudely interrupted and gaped at them. The agent shot the man kneeling on the bed. The naked woman tried to reach the nightstand where possibly a weapon was hidden. John shot and made it a clean shot right through her hand. She screamed and fell back on the dead man.

“We should bring her back for intense questioning.” The agent looked at John who nodded.

“Oh yes, intense questioning. I like that.” He smiled thinly. Two agents cuffed her naked as she was and pulled her outside. Then he texted Mycroft.

_“We found the woman in charge for you and some intense questioning. I’d like to attend. Please make sure Sherlock doesn’t see her.”  
JW_

A few seconds later Mycroft texted back.

_“Good job. We’ll be having a good time. I’ll take care of everything.”  
MH_

John was rather pleased and looked at the agent who was pale, very much so.

“Are you feeling OK?” He sat down on an armchair.

“No, not really. It’s all so unreal. I wonder if there are more people being held captive. Perhaps there is a basement? Or more buildings? Shouldn’t we look?” John looked at him and checked back with Major Monroe.

“I already built teams. You two check the attic, please.” John and the agent climbed upstairs where they found a hidden door behind a wardrobe. They crawled inside and found several doors being locked. They knocked on it and heard only faint and muted noises. John decided to open one door and simply shot the lock. He carefully pushed against the door and it opened up to a horrid scene. The agent beside him turned away and vomited on the floor. The stench was barely bearable. There was a human shape crouched in a cage and it was dead, decayed even. John moved closer and could hardly recognise the body of a man or a woman. He swallowed.

In the next room, the man was still alive but only almost. His arms had been forced out of their sockets due to his bindings. He couldn’t scream anymore. He was hoarse. He was also underfed and dehydrated. John carefully lowered him down and immediately called for ambulance assistance, a lot.

They found some more people. Some of them badly injured. He found even one woman in labour monitored by a camera John just shot at. She was tied to a bed and the camera was between her legs where a dildo was shoved into her.  
All of them were scared to death and wouldn’t speak to them. John knew it would take time. Again, he thought of Sherlock and wondered what he had had to endure. They needed to talk. Soon.

Outside and back downstairs he sat down on the stairs and texted Greg.

_“Are you with him?”  
JW_

It took only a minute until he replied.

_“I just fed him and made him sleep. I can see him right now. He asked after you.”  
GL_

_“Did you see any injuries?”  
JW_

_“Torn edges of his mouth, loads of bruises everywhere and some very nasty welts on his back.”  
GL_

_“I will have a look at him no matter what he says. Expect me back in two hours.”  
JW_

_“Promise me you will be gentle with him.”  
GL_

_“No need to tell me.”  
JW_

John stood and found someone driving back to base. There were ambulances everywhere, also police transporter. He watched the woman being taken away by Mycroft’s people. John looked forward to being alone with her. Very much so.

He changed his clothes and freshened up a bit before he entered Sherlock’s tent. He was still asleep and on his side. Greg sat on a folding chair on his left, so he could see his face. John quietly came closer and looked at him. The blanket was up to his chin and his eyes moved restlessly. He knelt in front of the cot and just watched him. Suddenly he opened his eyes. For a moment there was happiness, joy even. But then it changed. His lips were pressed together and he looked at a point over his head.

“Go away, John. You can’t be near me.” John stayed calm. But he was so very hurt. But being a doctor, he knew everything about this kind of behaviour. Traumatised people looked at themselves for all the guilt.

“But I want to be near you. I was worried about you. I am still worried about you.”

“Why do you even look at me?” His fingers were cramped around the hem and his lips stood open.

“Because I need to know what happened. I need you to talk to me. Please don’t push me away, Sherlock.”

“But I am useless now. I am dirty, used, and, and, …” He panted hard and sweated.

“Hush, love, come down.” John soothed him without thinking. Greg looked surprised and Sherlock looked just shocked by that word of endearment. His cheeks became a bit red. He had blushed. John didn’t recognise what he had just said.

“John, what they made me do to behave correctly, to perform as they put it, it turned me into nothing but scum. I am a worthless, whorish slut. I …”

“No, you are not. They are the worst mankind is able to produce. You are the best. You are the most wonderful man I had ever the honour to meet. Please don’t believe anything they told you. We love you. See, there is Greg.” Sherlock cried his heart out by now.

“Don’t degrade yourself, John. Please …” Now Greg moved up to John’s side as well.

“Sherlock, John just stormed into that hellhole. He rescued some more victims. He also got hold of that woman who did these things to you. Your brother will take care of everything.” Sherlock looked from Greg to John and back and back again.

“But why …”

“Please don’t push me away, Sherlock. Please …” John cradled the edge of the cot and his eyes were wet. Sherlock looked at him and finally sat up.

“I thought you …” Then he once hit the place by his side and John very quickly moved up and sat down. Greg smiled and left them.

“I want to be here for you. Mycroft told me about your transport and your soul. Please talk to me. Make me understand what happened.”

“I simply knew you were out there looking for me. I knew you would never give up on me. All the time they made me do things, I knew you were out there. My soul hid in the basement of my mind palace. It screamed your name, John. It was focused solely on you, John.” John very carefully took Sherlock’s hand between his.

“What about your transport? I mean, Greg told me about your injuries. But I need you to tell me.”

“Why?” John stroked his thumb over his hand and sighed.

“Because you need to talk about it. I know you wouldn’t ever talk to a therapist.” Sherlock looked at him. And then he talked. A bit.

“Now I want to know what you found in that house.” John looked shocked and shook his head.

“No. No way, Sherlock.”

“Why not? I need to know from what you saved me. I am already forever grateful.”

“You would probably hack into some computer anyway, I assume.” Sherlock snorted.

“Well …” And John spoke about what they had found. Greg paled and wished he hadn’t come back and brought water and more snacks. Sherlock listened to what John told him. He paled again and swallowed. What, if he hadn’t been a virgin? What, if he hadn’t been good looking? At least they had thought so. He never understood what people liked about his looks. He would have ended up as a fuck-toy, shown on films, raped in front of an audience.

“And that’s only what I found. The other troops found even more. Unspeakable things.” John very seriously looked at Sherlock.

“And now it’s your turn again. I need you to talk to me. Please.” Sherlock looked at him.

“Can we not talk in here? I feel crowded.” John nodded looking at Greg.

“Could you clear the way for us, please?”

“Sure.” Sherlock looked at Greg.

“Thank you, Greg.” Greg teasingly pulled a strand of his curly hair making him smile. John was fairly surprised that Sherlock let him be touched. He felt a little disturbed. Or was he jealous? Of Greg? Sherlock trusted Greg. But he had more intense feelings for John. It had been John who helped him through his time as a sex-slave. Still, he had no idea how long he had been taken.

Greg had cleared the way for John and Sherlock. John just walked followed by Sherlock. He felt him close, very close, behind. They walked for about ten minutes and reached a small clearing. John took his jacket and spread it out on the ground beneath a tree.

“Let’s sit down, Sherlock.” Sherlock gracefully folded his long limbs and carefully lowered his backside on the jacket. But it hurt and the move made him hiss. John very quickly was checking his limbs.

“What? What is it? Where do you hurt?” Sherlock blushed and wouldn’t look at him.

“My backside hurts. They stuck things into me. It still hurts.” He only whispered and John gently took his hand.

“Did you see a doctor?” He simply shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t stand being touched.” John seriously looked at him.

“Would you let me check on you?” Sherlock held John’s hand with both of his.

“Not here. At home.” His mouth stood open and he started to panic.

“That’s fine. We are going home as soon as possible. I will talk to Mycroft and have him arrange everything.”

“I knew you were coming for me, John.” Sherlock looked at John’s hand between his.

“And you were right about it. I only wish I had come earlier.”

“I have no idea how long I have been with them. How long I was forced to do these things.” He shuddered and closed his eyes.

“You were taken about half a year ago. Exactly for six months, three days, 5 hours, and 3 minutes. I counted it.” Sherlock lifted up John’s hand and pressed it against his cheek.

“I would like to sit here for a bit.”

“Rest against me and try to relax. I will text Mycroft about our plan.” Sherlock carefully arranged his long limbs and leant back. He tensed for a bit but finally settled. The welts hurt.

“I can feel you are in pain, Sherlock. What is it?”

“They hit me with a riding crop. On my back. It feels hot.” Now it was John’s turn to tense.

“Sherlock, I need to see this before we leave. You don’t want to have scars, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” He quietly admitted and sighed.

“OK, I will look at you and just give you first-aid in the tent. Then we probably can go home.”

“There can’t be anyone else.”

“I am a trauma surgeon. I can handle this by myself. Don’t you worry about it, OK?” John took his mobile and texted Mycroft.

_I’ll need the first aid tent for myself and Sherlock asap. No one else in there but us. Afterwards, we want to go home. Arrange?  
JW_

“John?” John rested his chin on Sherlock’s shoulder. He smelled him, he smelled his fear, his humiliation, and his anger.

“Yes?”

“I am still a virgin, you know?” John smiled.

“Sick bastards. I can’t wait to …” Sherlock tensed and John bit his lip.

“What?” Sherlock asked.

“The woman who auctioned you. She is brought to Baskerville and will be interrogated very thoroughly. I already asked Mycroft to be allowed to participate.”

“I understand. What about the others? There was a man, her assistant. He …” There he started to shiver again.

“Hush. Don’t. First things first.”

“Let’s go back, so you can do whatever you want to do. Then you will drive us home.” Sherlock tried to turn around and strained his neck. John swallowed at the sight. He shoved him a bit off and helped him up, so he avoided Sherlock touching his arousal. Sherlock didn’t notice. But he kept holding John’s hand.

“OK, listen. I will take you into the first-aid tent right away. I will stay with you and send everybody else out. It will be only me and you. Is that OK? Do you think you can do it?” Sherlock looked at John and nodded.

“Yes, John.” They walked back and Mycroft had already confirmed the tent would be empty for them. John ushered him in and made him sit on a stretcher. Sherlock’s mouth turned down.

“Stand if you like. Do whatever is best.” Sherlock slowly stood again. John disinfected his hands but refrained from donning gloves. He had seen how Sherlock had eyed the box.

“Could you please take off your hoodie and tee?” John gently asked and Sherlock slowly lifted up his hands. He finally wriggled out of the tee and John needed all his strength to not lose his mind. Sherlock was covered in bruises and welts. He prepared a bowl with warm water and just started to wash him. Sherlock relaxed a bit when John moved the soft fabric over his skin. His shoulders slumped but he stood.

“Are you OK? Any nausea, pain or dizziness?”

“No, John. I am fine.” John didn’t believe that but refrained from commenting.

“OK, nothing is bleeding anymore and I don’t need to stitch you up. I will use some bandages though. Please hold still.”

“Yes, John.” John looked at Sherlock’s back. He hated the docility. This wasn’t Sherlock. He needed to get him home as soon as possible. Mycroft had provided fresh clothes, too. John picked up a wide enough tee and pulled it over his head again.

“I need to look at your backside, Sherlock. Please get on that stretcher for me.” Sherlock just pulled down his trousers and got chest down on it. His arse came up at once and John swallowed.

“No, don’t do that. Just get on your side facing the tent.” Sherlock turned on his side and one hand went into his hair. His eyes were closed and goose-skin was all over his body.

“I’ll hurry. It’s me, Sherlock. I am not going to hurt you but I have to have a closer look. Please don’t be afraid.” He quietly opened a tube with lube and rubbed them over his fingers. He placed one palm on Sherlock’s hips and two lubed fingers moved over his hole. It twitched at the touch and Sherlock started to murmur words.

“Always ready for mistress and master. Always ready. Always. Need to stay open wide. Need things inside. Need to obey. Must obey.” John felt around with his fingers. The flesh was still swollen and it must hurt him. John injected some cream and pulled up his boxers and trousers again. He quickly cleaned his hands and helped him up.

“Let’s go home now, Sherlock.” He obviously relaxed and took John’s hand again. The car was parked outside the tent. Mycroft stood by its side and gave his brother a once over. There was communication going on between them and finally, Mycroft nodded and let Sherlock enter the car. John looked around.

“Where is Greg?”

“Sorting through files we found in the house. He says to tell you _Hi_ and that he will visit you the day after tomorrow.” John smiled.

“Perfect. I’ll take us home now.” Mycroft seriously looked at John.

“No, just drive up to the helipad with my Sergeant here. It will be faster. You can't drive all the way south with him in his state. The fridge at 221B is stocked and so is your med-kit. There is security in the street and new CCTV. Don’t make a fuss. Whatever you need, call me. Is that understood?” John smiled. He was indeed thankful.

“Yes, Sir.” He saluted him and moved behind the wheel. Sherlock sat on the passenger’s seat. The Sergeant sat in the back and didn't utter a single word. 

“Fasten your seat-belt, please.” Sherlock didn’t like to be restrained but had no choice. John wouldn’t drive until he put it on. His fingers were clawing at it during the whole ride. Later John strapped him into the seat inside the helicopter. Again, he fisted into the seatbelt. But at least this ride would soon be over and they would be home.


	7. Chapter Seven

They stumbled up the stairs in Baker Street. Sherlock had been sick several times and John had to force some water back into him. He wheezed and tried to get to the sofa but John held him back.

“No, no, no. Not the sofa, Sherlock. Get into your bed. Come on!” He fell down on it and his eyes closed. He held on to John though. His fingers were fisted around John’s arm.

“Let go, please. I need the loo.” John pulled a bit and Sherlock let go. He groaned and rolled into a foetal position. John hurried. He also collected water and some painkillers. He got pyjamas for Sherlock and gently tried to undress him. He didn’t open his eyes or respond in any other way. He was like a big ragged doll. But John managed and finally had him under the blanket. Now it was his turn.  
He raced upstairs and changed into pyjamas, too. On his way back he snatched some cookies. Sherlock’s eyes were locked on the door when he returned and he visibly relaxed.

“I am here. I promised.” He sat on the armchair and pulled his legs up. Sherlock just stared at him and got up on his elbows. But after a few seconds, he just fell down again, rolled on his other side not facing John and cringed. Tears spilt and he suppressed his sobs.  
John tensed and didn’t move. He had no idea what had just happened. What had he done now? Slowly he got up again and moved around the bed.

“Sherlock? What’s wrong? You need to talk to me, please?”

“You just proved it. You won’t come near me. You hate me. You are disgusted.” After his speech during which he didn’t open his eyes and continued to sob, he just pulled up the blanket. John blankly stared. Then he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

“Sherlock, I didn’t want to crowd you. I couldn’t imagine you possibly want anyone in your bed. That’s why I sat down over there to stay close. You can’t believe I hate you.” There was no response.

“Please? You are making me sad.” That actually got him a response. Sherlock looked over the hem. His eyes were red and wet and his face was all blotchy. He still shook.

“Please …” He just said and reached out for John. At once he took his hand and sat down. Sherlock moved to the side and just kept pulling until he had John pressed to his chest. His hair tickled John’s skin. John felt the warmth of his body. His arm wrapped around his waist and held him tight.

“I am right here. If you want this, I’ll stay. I only meant well.” Sherlock exhaled and rubbed his cheek over John’s hair. John could feel when he slowly drifted off to sleep. Only then he was able to relax, too. He thought about the CCTV and what Mycroft would think.

It took him a while but finally, John fell asleep, too.

***

John woke a few hours later due to a thumping noise. He opened his eyes and needed a moment to realise where he was. Then his eyes fell on Sherlock and his eyes widened in shock.

Sherlock still was in bed but sat close to the wall with his knees pulled up and banged his head against the wall. Repeatedly and slowly. He stared into nothing. John carefully reached out for him.

“Sherlock? Please look at me.” Sherlock didn’t react at first. He only started to speak about two minutes later.

“I need to be good. I need to service you. I must please you.” Suddenly he looked up and quickly reached beneath the hem of John's pyjamas. He was so surprised because of Sherlock’s actions that he couldn’t react. Only when Sherlock had his long fingers around his cock and lowered his head, he dug his fingers into his curls and stopped him.

“Stop that at once!” He hissed when he felt Sherlock’s hot breath around his flesh. After a few moments, Sherlock’s body started to shake almost uncontrollably and he buried his face in his hands.

“John …” John sat on his heels and slung his arms around his thin frame. He held him tight and pecked a kiss on his hair without even thinking about it.

“Were you having a nightmare?” Sherlock nodded.

“Huh.” He sobbed clinging to John’s body.

“Tell me.” He shook his head.

“Can’t.” Sherlock's skin felt cold and John pulled up the blanket again.

“Come here and hold on to me. Listen to me, Sherlock. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I am right here with you and I will protect you. I will take care of your health, that’s why I need you to talk about it. I can only imagine due to your injuries what those people did to you or forced you to do.” Sherlock wrapped himself around John’s compact body and stole his body warmth.

John’s shoulder hurt but he didn’t complain. It throbbed a bit and he really should take a warm bath. He could take it with Sherlock? He wondered for a second but then just asked.

“Listen, Sherlock. I know I promised not to leave you alone but I really need to take care of my shoulder. I would like to take a bath.” Sherlock held him a bit apart and looked him over.

“You are hurt because of me. Go and take a bath. I will be with you.” He let go of him and reached out for the tissues. John slowly stood and slumped into the bath. He could hear him loudly blow his nose and smiled. It sounded like a small elephant in the room. Followed by that, he heard him move into the kitchen and the fridge opened and closed. He brought back a bottle of water and two glasses. He even drank and John smiled when being handed his glass. Then he was left alone. He stopped the water and added some foam. He undressed and carefully climbed into the tub. As soon as he was settled, Sherlock moved back inside holding his blanket like Linus. Without a word he sat down on the rug in front of the tub and draped the blanket over his shoulders.

John had no idea if he should say something, so he didn’t. He just kept watching him over the edge of the tub. After a while John relaxed because he saw him just sitting quietly. He closed his eyes for a bit but kept listening to any weird noises.

Soon enough his shoulder was better and he slowly sat up. At once Sherlock’s head came up, too. Their eyes met and at once Sherlock lowered his gaze.

“Hey, look at me, please? Are you OK?” He looked up and gave him a tired smile.

“Yes, I could need a painkiller though.” John nodded. He had expected that much.

“At first we are going to have dinner. It’s about time and you need to eat.”

“I am hungry. Are you going to feed me?” Sherlock looked at John who just looked back.

“No. Why would I?”

“I am not supposed to sit at the table with you.”

“Yes, you are. And I am not going to feed you.” Sherlock swallowed and cast his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do …”

“Are you hungry?” Sherlock nodded.

“What would you like to eat? I’ll cook what you want.” John offered trying to lure him out. But Sherlock just shrugged. John tried to remember what Sherlock had eaten before but couldn’t. So, he just placed him at the table with a painkiller and a glass of water. Then he quickly texted Mycroft who in turn texted Greg. And Greg replied by calling.

“John, he lived with me for quite some time after he came down from using. I sometimes cooked pizza with mushrooms and loads of cheese. I also cooked spaghetti with cheese sauce and mushrooms. He always devoured those.” John thanked him and checked the supplies. Everything was stocked. So, he started to boil water for the spaghetti. When he was done preparing, he turned around. Sherlock still sat at the table and didn’t move. His back was turned to John who slowly approached.

“I will cook spaghetti with a creamy, tasty cheese sauce. What do you think?” Sherlock looked up and completely unconsciously licked his lips.

“I would like that.” John smiled and moved a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.

“Would you like to help me?” And then he smiled up at John. John thought it went right into his heart.

“Yes.” John brought a plate and a knife. He made him chop the mushrooms. It looked like he was performing an experiment but it worked just fine. After he was done, he held up the plate and looked at John.

“Is this how you wanted it?” John just looked at him.

“It’s perfect. Like you.” He gave him a wide smile and Sherlock looked a bit surprised. But he smiled a bit, too. John took the plate and finished the sauce.

“Could you please set up the table for us?”

“Yes, master.” John tensed. Sherlock saw that he wasn’t pleased and made a step backwards.

“Don’t, Sherlock. It makes me feel so bad.”

“I am sorry. Forgive me, ma … John. Please?” Sherlock’s eyes were wet.

“There is nothing to forgive, Sherlock.” Suddenly Sherlock heavily fell back on his chair. Tears were running freely.

“They beat it into me. I can’t help myself. I sometimes don’t even realise it. I called Mycroft master, too. I don’t know what to do, John. I don’t know!” The last he almost shouted and John found it good that he did so. He had to let it out.

“That’s good! Let it out! Scream! Shout! Pound on something! Break something! Shoot the wall again! Just let your anger out!” Sherlock looked surprised. He kept thinking though.

“You know what I would like to do?” He finally said.

“What?” John had no idea what was to come.

“I want to see her suffer. I want to make her suffer. I want my revenge.” He looked wicked. John had no idea how to react. He gnawed on his lips.

“I know you don’t approve. But please think about it. I know you are going to interrogate her.” He pronounced it remarkably making John grin.

“I let you come along if you talk to me about your time with her. I have to know everything, so I can perform properly.”

“I will. I promise. I trust you.” John filled a bowl with noodles and creamy sauce.

“Sit down, please, and try to eat something.” Sherlock ate very slowly, but he ate. He even licked his lips. And when he was done, John asked:

“You know, Mycroft told me you divided your soul from your transport and that it hid in the basement of your mind palace.”

“Yes, it was the only way to endure everything without too much damage.”

“But you got hurt a lot.”

“But it was mostly my transport.”

“It is such a beautiful transport and I don’t want it to get hurt.” Sherlock just stared at John. He had blushed.

“You really think me beautiful?” He only whispered it and his voice was rough. John crouched by his side and placed his palms on his thighs.

“Absolutely. I was so angry at first because you took off all alone again. But when I saw the pictures with you in a cage transported off, I only was scared to death. What if I would never see you again? What if I never had the chance to tell you that I love you?”

“Love me.” Sherlock’s brain whirled.

“Yes, I love you. I never told you because you made it very clear that you are married to your work.”

“Self-protection. I didn’t know you then.”

“And now you do?” Sherlock slowly nodded and carefully touched John’s hands.

“Now I do. I knew you would be coming for me. It was just a question of time. My soul always knew.” John gently took his hand and kissed his knuckles. He always kept eye contact. He felt him tremble slightly, but he also smiled.

“John …” John smiled and stood up again.

“I am glad you ate. I would like you to sit down on the sofa with me and talk. Take your time. Whatever you need.”

“OK.” He slowly stood, too. They walked over into their living room and Sherlock sat with his legs pulled under. John did the same and just waited. After a few minutes Sherlock started to talk. He talked for two hours only interrupted by drinking the water that John provided.

He listened without interrupting him. Instead he held his hand and stroked his skin. He handed over tissues. Only when Sherlock started to sound hoarse, John pulled him into his arms. Sherlock accepted the embrace even though he was a bit tense at first. Suddenly he murmured into John’s ear.

“You know what was the worst?” John moved his palm over his back.

“Just let me know.” He breathed for a while but finally said:

“They made me feel good. They tortured me, but they made me enjoy it. At least my transport was enjoying it. I couldn’t help it.”

“As a doctor I am telling you, that your transport had no choice. If your prostate gets stimulated, you will feel lust and joy and it can drive you crazy.”

“I want you to make me feel good.” Now it was John’s turn to tense.

“Oh Sherlock, you have no idea how much I … But I possibly can’t. Not after you …”

“You see, that’s why I think you find me dirty. Used. Slutty.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t ever hurt me. I trust you, John.” And now it was John’s turn to cry. Sherlock was surprised at first and wasn’t sure what to do. But finally, he just pulled John close and hugged him. John did not push him back.

“I am sorry I caused you so much pain and trouble.” John wiped over his eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I took off again and didn’t wait for you. Then I was taken.”

“I couldn’t keep up with you. So, it’s entirely my fault.” They looked at each other. Suddenly a small smile appeared on Sherlock’s face.

“It’s their fault.” John blew his nose. And then he nodded.

“I thought I had lost you. I thought you gone forever. I couldn’t stand it. I even lashed out at Greg.”

“Poor man. He is too good for this world.”

“I totally agree.” Now they both smiled again.

“I can’t believe I was there for more than half a year. I shut down completely.”

“You have to learn to live again. Do what you want. Say what you want. You might even annoy me, shout at me or insult me, it’s all fine.”

“I want you to stay in my room. I don’t want to be alone. I promise not to touch you if you don’t want it.”

“I could not wish for more, but I can’t. Not now. It will take time. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t. But I can hold you, can’t I?” John slowly nodded.

“You can hold me. That’s fine.” Sherlock yawned.

“I am afraid of going to bed and falling asleep.”

“I’ll be with you. If you are having a nightmare, I will kick it out, OK?”

“And so will I. You have nightmares, too. Normally I play the violin to soothe you. Would you still like that?”

“I missed your play a lot while you were gone.” Sherlock looked up.

“Really? Most of the time you don’t even know what I am playing.” John grinned.

“I also missed your insults.” Sherlock pressed his lips together.

“I am sorry.” John reached out for him and took his hand. He kissed it again.

“No, we are good. For me, it’s not important what it is. If it sounds good in my ears, it’s fine.”

“Can we go to bed now?” John slowly nodded.

“I’ll get ready. Go first and get into your bed. I’ll be right with you.” Sherlock slowly stood and walked into the bath. John heard the toilet flush and the water run. The door to his bedroom closed. It was John’s turn to use the bath and so he did. He changed into comfy pyjamas and a long-sleeved tee. He also had socks. He liked it warm. He looked into the mirror and met his worried gaze. He nodded to his image and turned around. He slowly opened the door into Sherlock’s bedroom and found him already in bed. He had made a nest and rested right in the middle. He looked at John and just lifted up the blanket.

John checked the nightstand and saw that Sherlock had even thought of a bottle of water. He sighed but only inwardly. Then he just crawled under the blanket Sherlock kept holding up for him. He didn’t know what Sherlock wanted. Was he allowed to touch, to cuddle or to even spoon? John had no idea when moving beneath the blanket and he decided to just rest on his back. But he had no chance to do so for long because Sherlock just pulled him close and folded his long limbs around John’s muscular and warm body. His back got pressed against Sherlock’s chest. One of Sherlock’s long legs came on his own and Sherlock’s nose nuzzled over his hair. John felt him relax at once. His breathing was calm and he felt warm.  
John tried to relax his body but it was quite hard when being pressed against your beloved groin with your arse.

“You don’t like this.” Sherlock’s deep voice rumbled into his ear and John took hold of his arm.

“I don’t understand how you can stand this.”

“Because it’s you, John.” John closed his eyes and stroked over his arm.

“Because it’s me?” His nose moved through his hair.

“Yes, I always trusted you. You saved me. I’ve been waiting for you all these days, weeks, and months. Holding you means protection, warmth, tea, milk, and food. You are my saviour, John.” John was dumbstruck. Then he turned around in his arms and looked up at him.

“I loved you for a long time, you know? I wish for nothing more but this.” Sherlock’s eyes sparkled in the dark.

“This feels good, John. You holding me.” He only whispered making John smile. John dared and brushed his lips only lightly over Sherlock’s chin. He felt him shiver but he didn’t move away. Instead he pressed only closer against John.

“Tell me what you like me to do, what you want, what you need.” There was a break then. John listened to Sherlock exhale and inhale. Then his grip became tighter and he buried his face against John’s neck.

“They did so many things to me. They made me do so many things. I don’t know what’s appropriate with you. Admittedly, I felt good sometimes; even though I felt ashamed. It still feels whorish in my mind and it’s making me shudder.” John kissed him.

“You are not whorish. I love you. We can try anything you want.”

“Really?” John nodded.

“Really.” Sherlock only needed ten seconds to tell John what he wanted.

“I would like to touch your cock, John.” John stilled. That was rather unexpected. He cleared his throat.

“Um, yes?” John thought if Sherlock really wanted this, he should allow him. Who was he to really understand the genius' mind?

Sherlock moved below the blanket until his head was right over John’s prick. His long fingers carefully pulled his pyjamas down. His breath ghosted over John’s flesh and he felt the heat. Blood rushed south and Sherlock watched. His hands were on John’s hip and stomach when he lowered his head and took him into his mouth. He started to suckle very gently. He licked around the head and finally pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit. John groaned. He tried to move his hips but Sherlock held him down.  
His longish hair moved over John’s skin and he shivered. This was beyond every fucking fantasy he ever had about his flatmate. This was heaven. His fingers just reached Sherlock’s head and he moved his fingers through his curls.  
Sherlock’s head bopped rhythmically and John’s cock touched his throat. He started to swallow and John dripped into Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock licked the pre-come off of him and let go to suck his testicles into his mouth. Both of his hands moved over John’s body.

John writhed on the mattress quietly moaning all the time. Sherlock was happy. It seemed he was good enough. Good enough for John. But why didn’t he say something? He missed the praises. Maybe he still wasn’t good enough? He tried harder and just pushed down. John’s cock stuck in Sherlock’s throat and he yelped. Sherlock’s finger massaged his perineum and he couldn’t but push up fucking Sherlock’s mouth. But he took it. They trained him well.

Finally, he came and shot his cum deep down Sherlock’s throat. He shouted Sherlock’s name and fisted into his hair. When he was done and the white was gone from before his eyes, he felt him lick his cock clean. He looked at him and got up on his shaking elbows. Their eyes met.

“Sherlock, that was amazing. I never ... You did ...” John shook his head being at a loss for words. They looked at each other. Sherlock just knelt by his side. The blanket half draped over his shoulder.

“You liked what I performed?” John bit his lip.

“This was bloody art. I never came like this only by being given a blow-job. I am glad you gave that to me. No, not glad, I am happy, honoured, so grateful, I can’t find the right words.” Now there was a small smile on Sherlock’s lips. There was also a little bit of cum on his cheek. Slowly John got up and pulled him close. Then he kissed it off. Sherlock was too surprised to move away and he tensed.

“Let me do something for you now. Please?”

“Don’t restrain me!” Sherlock just blurted it out and John was shocked.

“Oh love, of course not!” He pecked a kiss on his nose.

“Just tell me what you need.”

“I would like you to kiss me all over my body. Kiss me, hold me, touch me. No more. Please?” He longingly looked at John. John just smiled and nodded.

“Relax.” Sherlock tried and got on his back. But his eyes wouldn’t leave John. John just lowered his head and started the kissing. He knelt by his side and took his ankle. He kissed every single toe, his bony ankle and then worked his way up to his knee. From there he changed sides and repeated the action. Sherlock was panting and hard already.

He yelped when John kissed the back of his knee. John smiled and kissed his way up. He stuck his tongue into his belly button making him giggle. He placed his palm on his flat belly and felt his muscles contract. He started sucking on his nipples. It turned out that Sherlock was very sensible there. He loudly groaned and moved into the touch.

“Jooooaaaahnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!” The noise made John hard again.

“Yes, honey?”

“The clamps were screwed too tight. Always.” His eyes were focused on the ceiling and John gently kissed his chest.

“It won’t ever happen again, love.” His eyes fluttered and he looked at him.

“I trust you.” And he smiled. It was everything John needed. He kept working his way up and finally reached his collarbone. Sherlock tilted his head when John reached his neck to allow him better access.  
John wondered if he could kiss him on the mouth or even stuck his tongue inside. Sherlock’s lips were parted and wet but his eyes were closed. John just dared and their lips met. He only licked over his lips and gently suckled. Sherlock made a surprised sound but didn’t turn away.

John remembered why he was called “Three-Continents-Watson”. He continued and Sherlock melted beneath him. Several minutes later they rolled over the bed and John still kissed him. No, he actually fucked him with his tongue and Sherlock let him.

Suddenly Sherlock stilled, tensed, and screamed. Then he came. John looked at him. Sherlock looked shocked, bewildered, and ashamed.

John was stunned. Sherlock had come without any stimulation on his genitals or in his arse at all. He had just come by John’s administrations. It was glorious. John smiled.

“Would you like me to clean you, baby?” Sherlock just looked and didn’t react.

“Sherlock? Are you alright?”

“I am soiled …” He almost choked. Then he sobbed. Tears spilt. John pulled him up and into his arms.

“No, no, no. Hush, love. You are not soiled! Do you hear me?”

“Wipe it off! It must come off! Please? Don’t make me drink it!” Sherlock was panting and clinging to John. Just for a second John had to close his eyes. What had these sick fucks done to his man? Tenderly he slung his arms around his slim body.

“Hush, honey. I am going to clean you with a warm towel. I only need to get up and prepare it, OK? I am only leaving for the bathroom. Do you understand?” Sherlock looked at John and just said:

“I am not deaf.” John grinned a bit lopsided and got out of bed. He quickly got a towel and a bowl with warm water. And then he gently cleaned Sherlock’s body. His hands were fisted into the sheets and he trembled.  
When John was done, he took it back into the bathroom and climbed back into bed. He pulled Sherlock up and into his arms when he leant against the headrest. He kissed the skin behind his ear.

“How are you doing, love?” Sherlock pressed against him, held him tight and tried to get even closer.

“Fine. I am fine. It’s better now.” Sherlock's voice sounded a bit throaty.

“Did you like what I did?” John asked and he just nodded. He couldn’t speak.

“I liked what you did. A lot.” John sounded sincere.

“Really?” Sherlock fiddled with the blanket and John took his hand.

“Really. You are the best, Sherlock. I love you.”

“I need time.” He suddenly said.

“What?” John didn’t get it.

“I need time until I can do more. I am afraid, you might lose your patience with me.” John’s grip tightened and Sherlock hissed. John let go at once.

“Sorry, sorry.” He kissed his bony shoulder. Then he rested his chin on top.

“I won’t lose my patience. I love you. I waited for so long and then you were taken away from me. I feared to never have the chance to tell you how much I love you.”

“I still don’t understand… Why…”

“I want to do so many things with you.” Now Sherlock changed his position to be able to look into John’s eyes.

“What?” John blushed a bit and licked his lips.

“I know you might find this boring or tedious or simply stupid but I would like to have a picnic in the park, go to a football game, join the crowds in a pub, go on vacation or hang out on the beach with you. Whatever. If only you are there with me.” Sherlock’s face was unreadable. John knew it was his thinking face.

“It has nothing to do with sex.” John looked surprised.

“No, of course not.” Sherlock looked at him.

“Why do you want to do these things with me?”

“Because I love you and I want to spend time with you. I want to enjoy ourselves. Don’t you?”

“I have no idea. I have never done these things.”

“Surely you must have been on vacation with your family?” He made a sour face.

“Surely not on the beach.”

“Oh.”

“Can you imagine Mycroft in a bathing suit?” John just had to grin.

“No.”

“See?”

“I was just suggesting. Don’t you have any ideas?” Sherlock shrugged.

“As long as you are there, I don’t mind going anywhere.” John was clueless.

“That’s not what I want. Meant. I mean, you must have wishes?” Hopefully he looked at him through his lashes.

“No, I don’t. I only ever wanted to silence the rumbles in my mind.”

“But you can silence them when you are busy.”

“Busy by doing intelligent things like experimenting or solving crimes. Not binge drinking or building castles in the sand.”

“I wasn’t talking binge drinking in Spain.”

“You can binge drink everywhere.” They looked at each other.

“You are disappointed.” Sherlock stated the obvious.

“No, it’s just … I mean, I only want to spend time with you.”

“Oh …” Sherlock did look surprised. He pulled his legs up and slung his long arms around his knees. Head tilted to the side he looked at John.

“I am not used to that. Affection. You wanting to be with me. Anyone. No one ever wanted to spend time with me.” Not until recently. They thought he was pretty. He shivered. Had he been longing for their compliments and praises? A full-body shudder hit him. His eyes watered and he blinked frantically. John just looked and let him talk.

“Except for Greg no one ever cared. Not counting my brother though. No one played with me, invited me, or wanted to be with me. I was always the freak.”

“Not to me you are.” John had moved closer again. Sherlock angrily wiped over his eyes.

“Why? Tell me. What do you see?” John smiled and stuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I see the most beautiful creature in the world. I see intelligence and a brilliant mind. An exceptional musician. My detective. You care, even though you deny it. You care for a few people and I know it. It didn’t take long to fall in love with you. When you do the deducing, I am in awe.” Sherlock thought about this and found it quite true.

“I never saw.” His hand moved out to hold on to John. He was pulled into his arms and held tight.

“I will always be there for you, Sherlock. I love you. I will help you get through this.”

“I know.” John pecked a kiss on his nose.

“Try to rest now. I am right here.” John pulled him on his back and held him against his chest. Sherlock sighed and folded his body around him. John fell asleep quickly. Sherlock spent quite some time just watching him. He cuddled close and inhaled John’s scent. Then he fell asleep, too.


	8. Chapter Eight

John woke because his nose smelled something which reminded him of the hospital. He blinked his eyes open and at once felt to his side. Sherlock was still there but he didn’t react at all. John was still tired and rubbed over his eyes. Then he sat up and looked at him. His face was blotchy and his eyes were red-rimmed.

“Sherlock? Are you hurt?” And then the smell hit him. Sherlock had wet the bed.

“Forgive me, ma … John. Please?”

“Don’t worry. It’s all fine. I’ll take care of it.” John rolled out of bed and moved over to Sherlock’s side. He wouldn’t look up at him. But he spoke. No, he actually ranted.

“You were asleep. I didn’t know if I could wake you, should wake you. We haven’t spoken about the loo. You never said it was OK to go. I didn’t know, didn’t know …” John closed his eyes for a second. Sherlock had been to the bath yesterday but John had always asked him to do so, asked him to join him when he took his bath. Now he had been asleep and Sherlock had been lost. God, John hadn't thought about this.

“Get up and take a shower, Sherlock. There is nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of our bedding.” Slowly he rolled out of bed. He felt so ashamed.

John quickly changed the bedding and stuffed the soiled fabric into a plastic bag he got from the kitchen. He needed to do the laundry. He sighed and checked the mattress. Then he started to clean it, too, while he listened to the noises in the bath.  
It took Sherlock quite a while and John decided to interrupt. He knocked on the door and entered.

“Sherlock?” He had finished with the shower and now stood in front of the mirror and looked at his body. John looked at his body, too. He was still bruised and John hated to admit that it made him feel both hurt and aroused. He would never tell him, of course. He had been a Dom for several years and his submissive had been the most wonderful woman on this planet. Only then she died. Cancer. Her collar had been buried with her. John’s bracelet rested in a little box in his nightstand upstairs. All his toys had been discarded. He never had been a Dom again after her.

He knew when he met Sherlock that he would be the perfect submissive. Well, at least after some training. Now he had had some training and John would never ever bring up the subject.

“John?” He looked up.

“Yes?” He cleared his throat.

“You weren’t answering me. Are you angry with me?” Quiet voice, eyes lowered. Fuck. His cock stirred.

“Of course not. It’s not your fault. But do you see now how important it is that we talk about what they did to you? So, I can act properly?” Sherlock slowly nodded.

“Yes, John.” John poked him in the back.

“Don’t yes me, Sherlock.” A small smile tugged on Sherlock’s lips. He leant back trusting John to hold him.

“Do you think there will be scars?” John shook his head and spoke against his skin.

“No, they look good. They will be present for some time and probably hurt but there won’t be any scars.” Now John’s arms came around Sherlock’s waist.

“I still don’t understand what you see when looking at me.” Their eyes met in the mirror.

“My life. My heart. My love.” Sherlock blushed and bowed his head.

“It’s so alien …” He only murmured the words. John stroked over his non-existent belly.

“Why? You are adorable.” Now he even quietly snorted.

“I have been described a lot of things but never adorable.” John kissed his back.

“Then you have only met the wrong people.”

“I knew about you at once.” Sherlock placed his hands on John’s.

“Knew what?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?” John swallowed.

“I may have no idea about love and sex but I know about psychology and dynamics. You are an alpha, John. People follow your orders.” John smiled.

“Not you.” Sherlock sadly shook his head.

“Well, I wish I had.”

“Do you want to?” John bit his lip. It had slipped out. Sherlock smiled.

“John, I do know about your fantasies even though you aren’t living them out anymore. I do borrow your laptop and you never delete your browser history.”

“Fuck …” John’s hands left Sherlock’s body but Sherlock held on to him.

“We have to talk. But not now.” Slowly John shook his head.

“No, not now. Is there anything you would like to do now? Can I do anything?”

“Tea. A cookie. And back to bed. Hold me. I’d like to cuddle.” John visibly relaxed.

“Go ahead then. I’ll be right with you.” John lightly pressed into Sherlock’s back and moved him outside. The bed was freshly made and Sherlock was grateful. John waited until he was settled against the headrest.

“I’ll be right back.” He switched the kettle on and made tea. He put several cookies on a little plate and carried both the tea and the cookies into the bedroom. He placed everything on Sherlock’s nightstand.

“Thank you. John.” He had to concentrate but managed. John felt good. He climbed back into bed with him. Sherlock took the mug and slowly drank the tea. He also devoured the cookies. And then he just took John and folded around his warm body. John just let him because he enjoyed being close to him. Finally.

Sherlock was simply used to be naked all the time and John didn't mind at all.

***

Surprisingly both of them slept well and weren’t interrupted by nightmares. John woke very well rested to Sherlock’s butterfly kisses on his chest and belly. A nice feeling settled in his gut and he smiled sleepily. They looked at each other.

“Morning, sunshine. This is nice.” Sherlock hummed and kept kissing. John felt his morning wood, felt it stir. He tried to touch his prick but his hand got swatted away.

“No, let me.” John gave up. Sherlock needed this experience, needed to know that he was allowed to do these things. So, John closed his eyes and muttered.

“Do me then. I appreciate the waking-up call, love.” A second later Sherlock’s mouth closed around his cock and he sucked him deep into his mouth. His breath hitched and he fisted the sheet.

“Fuck …” It didn’t take him long and he came. Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips. Then he kissed John again. Looking at him he said:

“I like this because you like it. It’s nice.” John nodded. His lust addled brain was still swirling.

“Huh.” Sherlock grinned and stood.

“Now I am making you coffee. And eggs. And toast.” And with this, he sauntered out of the room. John closed his eyes and breathed. He was surprised that this had ended up like it did. Sherlock had coped rather well. He sure would have some breakdowns and they still did need to talk.

Finally, John stood and slumped into the bathroom. He showered and dressed in comfy clothes. When he entered the kitchen, he smelled breakfast. Sherlock had successfully made a mess of the kitchen and himself. But he looked very proud when serving John his breakfast. John looked greedily at his plate and then at Sherlock.

“Where is yours?”

“I just had breakfast.” John almost choked on his coffee but then he grinned.

“No, love, you have to eat. Please, you have cooked such a wonderful breakfast. Join me?” Sherlock sucked the praise up like a dry sponge. He smiled and took a small fork and stole from his plate. John thought of a Sherlockian compromise and accepted his defeat.

“At least sit with me, Sherlock.” His hand got pushed away and Sherlock placed his bony behind on John’s thigh. John looked up at him and smiled. For a second Sherlock looked very self-conscious but he smiled back.

“I used to kneel on the floor during meals. I got hand-fed. Sometimes I was blindfolded.” John paled. Sherlock picked up a tomato.

“I prefer you like this. I am proud of you.” He wallowed in the praise.

“What was the easiest thing to endure for you?” John suddenly asked making Sherlock still. He let him think.

“They liked to dress me into formal evening attire. I had gowns and corsets and heels. It didn’t hurt and I wasn’t naked, so it was OK.” John gaped. He saw pictures in his head. His blood once more rushed south. They looked at each other and Sherlock’s eyes widened.

“You’d like that.” John looked shocked and held up his hand.

“Oh God, I am sorry. I just … Please forgive me.” But Sherlock smiled.

“It would be different if I would do it for you.”

“No, I possibly can’t… Forget it.”

“I’ll tell you then what the most horrid thing they did to me was.” The plate was empty by then.

“OK. Go on.” But Sherlock stood first and moved over to the sofa. He looked over his shoulder asking without words to join him. Of course, John stood and sat by his side. But he brought his coffee. They settled. Sherlock sat cross-legged watching John. John had pulled his legs under and returned the attention. Sherlock licked his lips.

“They made me into a horse. I had a bit, a harness, bells, and feathers on my head. Don’t forget the tail. I pulled little cars or a carriage with others. I was naked and slept in a box. I was standing all the time. Mostly held up by ropes and chains because I was too weak to stand. They washed me once a day and fed me once a day. I have no idea how long I have been in the stables.” He came closer.

“I wasn’t allowed to rest. I only could ever stand leaning over some posts. The bit never came out except for the feeding and water.” John felt nausea flowing through his system and he placed his mug on the floor.

“Come here, honey. Let me hold you.” John felt the intense need to touch him. He needed to ground himself and pulled Sherlock close who just melted into his embrace. They stayed like this for several minutes.

“What else?” John’s voice was rough.

“They dressed me up like a baby, gave me diapers and an oversized pacifier. They restrained me in a baby-bed and gave me loads to drink and mushy porridge with laxative added into it. It was horrid. I felt debased, humiliated.”

“Jesus, Sherlock. I am so, so sorry.” Sherlock pressed against his body.

“Don’t. It’s over. I am here. I have what I wished for.” John started to card through his hair and pecked small kisses on his head and wherever he could reach. A few minutes later it knocked on their door. Sherlock didn’t react and John just called out.

“Come in.” The door opened and Greg entered.

“Oh, I am sorry to interrupt. I only wanted to check on you. I brought cake.” He lifted up a box.

“So, my brother is on his way, too?” Greg looked away first but finally nodded.

“Yes, he wanted to meet here.” Sherlock just turned his head and grinned smugly.

“You needn't come separately. I know anyway. It’s obvious.” John looked clueless.

“For me, it’s not. What is?” Now Sherlock looked at John.

“They shag each other.” Now Greg furiously blushed.

“Not yet. We … Damn!” Now Sherlock openly grinned. Very victoriously so.

“Get up. I want to brew some coffee.” Sherlock gracefully stood and took the box from Greg.

“So not yet. What were you doing then?” Greg didn’t answer. Sherlock looked him over and nodded.

“I see. No need for words.” He turned away and disappeared into the bath placing the box on the table on his way.

“What about you and him then?” John asked making Greg sigh.

“We were close all the time. I offered him my company in case he wanted to talk after Sherlock’s taking. It took us a while to arrange ourselves, but here we are. I went to see him yesterday and happened to stay over.”

“But you didn’t …” John raised his brow.

“No, we didn’t. We were close. Very much so. I like him a lot.” Greg looked happy.

“He was very worried about Sherlock.”

“He still is.” Greg looked over his shoulder but Sherlock still was in the bath.

“And so am I. He told me he wanted to come along when the interrogations take place.” Greg looked shocked.

“You won’t let him, right?” John collected plates and mugs.

“I am not the one to stop him. Only his brother could.” The same moment Mycroft entered 221B.

“John. Greg. Where is Sherlock?” He did look worried.

“Bath.” They replied and smiled. Mycroft smiled at Greg and it made John happy. Mycroft deserved some happiness, even though Sherlock would have to comment on it. Right then he came out of the bath and directly moved over to his brother.

“Myc.” He hugged him and Mycroft held him tight.

“Sherl.” Greg and John just stared and finally turned away. It was their private moment. Mycroft led him over to the window and they heard them talking.

“You can’t be serious.” Mycroft suddenly said a bit louder.

“I need to end this. I need to see it myself.”

“I’ll happily provide a video.”

“It’s not the same.” It was getting louder.

“Sherlock, you are in no condition to bear that input. There is no way.”

“Please.” Quietly said and it made Mycroft think.

“I want to talk to John about it.” Sherlock nodded.

“That’s OK.” They moved back to the table which had been set up by both Greg and John in the meantime. Mycroft licked his lips and sat down. John provided coffee and tea, too. They all ate the cake, even Sherlock did.  
Mycroft leant forward and said:

“John, do you know that Sherlock wants to participate?” John looked up.

“Yes, we have talked about it.”

“So?” Greg looked from one to another and didn’t interrupt.

“I think, he should try. I don’t want them to see him though. He may watch us doing the interrogating stuff but not more.”

“I want more.”

“What do you wish to achieve?” Mycroft asked. Sherlock looked up and met his eyes.

“I want her to hurt. And afterwards want her dead.” Then he burst into tears. John was getting up already but Sherlock just blindly stumbled over to his brother and slumped on his lap. The hurt on John’s face was only visible for a second but Mycroft was able to see it. He tried to meet his eyes but John looked into his mug.   
Mycroft held Sherlock tight and stroked over his back.

“It’s all fine. I’ll take care of the arrangements. You may be there but only with John present.” Now Sherlock looked up being all blotchy and red in the face. He wiped over his nose.

“Of course, he will be there. Why wouldn’t he?” Quiet communication followed and finally, Sherlock turned around and saw John. He didn’t need words because he saw and deduced. Mycroft once lifted up his leg and made Sherlock stand. He was good again. Mycroft looked at Greg then who had watched everything quietly from the side-lines. He smiled at him and elicited a broad smile in return. Sherlock’s attention was full-on John and Mycroft left taking Greg’s hand without receiving some ugly comment.

At first, after they had left, Sherlock blew his nose. Then he turned to John who tried to appear unharmed. Sherlock stepped up and placed his large hand on his nape. John bowed his head and sighed.

“I am sorry. I am still not used to you.” John exhaled slowly.

“Don’t feel sorry. He’s your brother and he always helped you. I am new in the game.”

“But you were, are, sad.” John looked up but didn’t move too much to not lose the contact.

“It felt like a stab in the stomach. I had the urge to comfort you, but you denied me. I do understand, of course.”

“John, I always want you by my side. I know you want to protect me, help me. You try to guide me, as well. Telling me, what’s a bit not good and such and I appreciate it. Everything had become better since you appeared in my life.” John’s eyes shone bright and he smiled.

“You are an ugly brat sometimes, Sherlock.” That made him smile, too.

“I know.” Sherlock lowered his head and nuzzled into John’s hair.

“Are we good?” John sighed but only inwards.

“Of course, we are good, love. Don’t worry!” He slowly turned around and stood. He pulled him into his arms. He knew he needed the reassurance. And he felt it at once. Sherlock moved as close as possible pressing against his body. And he sighed out rather loudly.

“What do you think of a walk through Regents Park?” Sherlock grumbled something about the bed.

“Fresh air is much needed, honey.” John insisted.

“You won’t give up, I know it. OK, I’ll get ready and you may pull me along.” John smiled but waved him off.

“Get a jumper. It’s cold outside.” Sherlock looked shocked.

“I don’t own a jumper!” John grinned.

”You own a hoodie.” Sherlock rather loudly closed the door behind him and John listened to him rummage through his wardrobe. He just used the loo and got into his loafers and jacket. A second later Sherlock appeared wearing a hoodie and a black leather jacket John had never seen before.

“Nice.” John exclaimed admiringly. Sherlock didn't look convinced but followed him outside. He stayed close to John. The moment they had reached the park he relaxed a little bit. John dared and took his hand. He looked up at him to see a reaction. Sherlock beamed at him and John pressed his hand once.  
They walked through the park until Sherlock slowed down.

“I need a break.” He panted a little bit. John just led him over to a bench and made him sit. He closed his eyes and leant against the back.

“I'll get you something to drink.” Sherlock tore his eyes open and sat up.

“Where are you going?” He looked a bit frightened and John palmed his face.

“I am just over there by the café. You can see me all the time. I'll hurry and be right back.”

“OK.” He didn't like it but he also was too weak to hurry along. John had clearly underestimated him. He had been stupid.  
John stomped over to the small place and bought coffee to go and water as well as a snack for Sherlock and him. He was angry but he was angry about himself. He was a doctor, for God's sake, and he hadn't seen how weak he still was, how scared.  
He returned and when looking at him he found him somehow smaller than before. He also wouldn't look at him but John could see he was crying. He sat down and held out the coffee. Sherlock's hand shook but he took it.

“I am sorry...” He whispered still not looking. John tried to calm down.

“No, I am the one who must be sorry. I dragged you out here, made you walk for more than two hours. I just didn't see.” Sherlock eyed the cookie John still held.

“You were angry. You stomped away. You always do that when I act wrong. I thought you were angry with me.”

“I really wasn't.” John handed over a tissue and held his coffee while Sherlock blew his nose.

“I couldn't bear it if you were angry with me. I promise to be good for you...” He looked so sad. John handed back his coffee.

“You are not to change; do you hear me? You are very special to me and I love you just the way you are. And even if I am angry and stomp off for a while, it doesn't mean I wouldn't return to you. Because I will. Always.” Sherlock looked at John through his dark lashes and exhaled.

“I kept thinking while following you here. I came to a conclusion, too. I will follow the interrogations. I will watch everything. But I won't participate. It would be too much. I am so not made for that.” He shook his head.

“I will take over for you.” John seriously said sipping his coffee. Sherlock still eyed the cookie and John handed it over.

“Talk to me if you want something. Whatever it is. You can speak freely about everything. You can do everything.”

“Except for the things a bit not good...” Sherlock murmured and John grinned.

***

They took a cab back to Baker Street where Sherlock swayed upstairs, dropped his jacket, and toed off his shoes on the way to the sofa. John just let him because his eyes were drooping already. He fell asleep the moment John draped the blanket over him.  
He spent about half an hour just looking at him sleep. And then he started to think about his past. He needed to tell Sherlock about it, about all of it. In return, Sherlock would tell him what had been done to him. Perhaps John would be able to overwrite his memories.

Sherlock liked to touch John and hold him tight. John though didn't know what would happen if he caged him in in bed, held him tight so he couldn't move his arms anymore.  
John remembered several times when he had boxed or hit Sherlock after he had acted wild on crime-scenes or elsewhere. He had never complained, not really, and afterwards, he had always wondrously looked at John.  
Now it would be almost impossible to do what he dreamed of with Sherlock. But was it really that important? Did he really need it?  
John sighed and stood to start dinner.

***

Sherlock dreamed. He was tied down and beaten. He was blind. He was gagged. His body twitched because an electric device repeatedly poked into his flesh. The pain increased. The plug inside his behind pulsed with electricity, too, as well as the cock-ring and the clamps biting into his nipples. And he was aroused. He spotted a raging hard-on.  
He tried to move on his front to be able to rut. He just had been told to do it and he had to obey. No matter how hard it was to move being tied up like this or how much it hurt.  
He threw his body around and groaned loudly from behind the gag.  
He fell off the sofa and banged his head. The dream stopped.

***

John heard the groan and the fall and dropped the knife and vegetables. He rushed over to Sherlock and wiped his hands over his jeans. He fell on his knees by his side and pushed the coffee-table away.

“Sherlock, wake up!” He shook him and then saw the blood running down his temple.

“Fuck...” John swore and lifted him up and back on the sofa. He quietly groaned and his head lolled over the fabric. John looked him over and spotted the raging hard-on beneath his jeans. He swallowed.

"Sherlock!” He pinched his earlobe because he didn't want to hit him flat in the face. Sherlock yelled and tore open his eyes. He stared at John without really seeing him. His hips bucked and he screamed loudly when he came into his trousers.  
John held him down and Sherlock's fingers clawed into his arms. He gurgled and groaned. His eyes turned in his head. Only then John gently slapped him.

“Wake up!” Sherlock stilled and tensed. His eyes slowly focused and found John. He slumped at once.

“John...” He was clammy and his skin was cold, too.

“You are home. I am right here. You hurt your head. Let me see it, please?” With two fingers John carefully and slowly turned his head to the side. It wasn't bleeding anymore but he needed to clean and disinfect it.

“Can you sit up for me?” He slowly pulled him up when Sherlock had nodded. He quickly got his med-kit and took care of Sherlock. They were quiet for a few minutes until Sherlock started to speak.

“I had a bad dream.” John had just wet his hair and combed through it to wash out the blood.

“Yes, it looked and sounded bad.” Sherlock bit his full lips and cast his eyes.

“They did it to me all the time. They tortured me with a lot of things all over and inside my body. And my body, my precious transport, betrayed me every single time. Like right now. They made me enjoy it and beg for more. And I did it, I did beg for more every single time. They were right, I am nothing but a whorish slut. You really should use me for your fantasies. I will enjoy it.” John kept staring at him and listened to his words.

“I already told you that your transport had no choice. You are not a whorish slut. You are the man I love. And I promise to overwrite your memories. I will show you love. Do you believe me?” Sherlock didn't look at him.

“I really want to...” Sherlock whispered.


	9. Chapter Nine

Several days later they went to join the interrogation of the Adler woman. Mycroft had been able to find her brother, too, who had been abroad during the time of the auction. But due to his many connections and called in favours he could have him arrested.  
Now Mycroft sat in his office at Baskerville. Greg sat on the edge of his table and Mycroft didn't even twitch. John held Sherlock's hand.

They had suffered through several more nightmares and every time Sherlock had told him about it. Slowly he felt better. He enjoyed John's tender administrations and he trusted him.

“It's time.” Mycroft said and John looked at Sherlock.

“If I am going in there now, I need to know that you will leave the moment it gets too much.”

“I promise.” Sherlock said and John nodded. They all left the office and only Mycroft and John entered the cell with the woman in it. Greg stayed behind with Sherlock. They could watch everything through a one-sided mirror. There also was a panic-button for him to use in case Sherlock fell in shock.

But nothing happened to him. He just stood and watched the whole time while John did his job. Mycroft leant against the wall and threw in the questions. Sometimes John added another. It took them quite a while until she broke but she finally did break. She started to spill names, accounts and more. Mycroft listened and was very pleased. John leant against the wall. There was blood on his hands and face.   
He wondered about Sherlock, if he had watched everything and what he thought now. About him.  
He desperately needed to shower. For a very long time. But he wouldn't leave the cell, not until Mycroft called it an end. And finally, he did. She was taken away and John relaxed. He looked at Sherlock's brother who held his mobile in his hands.

“Go and take a shower. Sherlock has fallen asleep and Greg is still with him.” John nodded and quickly left. There was no one else in the shower-room and he just shed his bloody clothes. They were ruined anyway. He stood under the hot spray for quite some time and no one came inside and bothered him. But someone must have been there because there were fresh clothes waiting for him. Probably Mycroft's doing.

John towelled himself dry and changed into a fresh pair of boxers, jeans, and t-shirt. There weren't any socks but a pair of slippers. He combed his hair with his fingers and left to look after Sherlock. He found him still with Greg in the room with the mirror. He was fast asleep on a chair and his head was tilted back against the wall. He had been drooling. But he was also quiet. No nightmare.

“I didn't want to wake him.” Greg said when John joined them again. John gently took Sherlock's pulse.

“When did he fall asleep?” He quietly asked.

“About halfway through. He didn't speak. He only stared and listened. Suddenly he turned away and sat down. The next second he was gone.”

“It was for the better.” John replied quietly.

“It sure was.” Greg agreed. John looked at him and found he was rather pale beneath his natural tan.

“Are you feeling well, Greg?” John asked.

“What do you think? I suppressed the need to vomit as long as I could. The moment Sherlock was sleeping I threw up into the bin.” Greg looked angry.

“I subscribe to a stiff drink.” John smiled.

“We can't leave him behind.” Greg and John both looked at Sherlock.

“No, we can't.” They both sighed. Right then Mycroft entered and carried a bottle with four glasses.

“You are a bloody mind-reader, Myc.” Greg said and sat. John agreed and took over filling the tumblers while Mycroft walked up to his brother. He gently palmed his face.

“Wake up, Sherl. We are done here.” Sherlock's eyes twitched and he slowly blinked them open. He weakly smiled but sat up straight.

“John?” He asked and tried to look around Mycroft.

“Right here.” John stood beside Mycroft and handed over the tumblers. Sherlock reached out for it but then stopped. He hadn't been allowed alcohol. He had had to earn it. He once bit into his lip and took the tumbler.

“There you are.” John smiled and gently once carded through his hair.

“You have showered and changed already.” John shrugged and was given his drink by Greg.

“Yes, we let you sleep.” Greg added.

“I saw enough. It was a lot to digest. But still, I believe it was the right thing to do.” Sherlock murmured.

“Yes, so do I.” Mycroft said. Everybody in here knew the woman would be brought to prison, a high-security prison. She would never get out again. Soon her brother would join her. He would be interrogated, too. John yet didn't know if he would participate again. Right now, he needed to recover.

“How long do we have to stay here?” Sherlock asked looking at his brother.

“Let's finish this drink.” They all quickly downed it and walked away. Outside there was a large Jeep parked together with Mycroft's black sedan. He got a set of keys out of his pocket.

“John, these are the keys for both the Jeep and a little cottage by the sea. Directions are in the car together with your bags and Sherlock's. I took the freedom to arrange this for you. You need to see other things and spend some quality time together. Talk. Live. Have a good time.” Mycroft seriously said.

“Thank you, Mycroft. I appreciate it.” He looked at Sherlock.

“The beehives?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft just nodded. Sherlock hugged him and Gregory and then just sat on the passenger seat. John raised a brow but followed suit. He unfolded the map but Sherlock just took it and threw it into the back.  
“Never mind, John. I know the way.” John accepted his fate and adjusted everything to his height. They rode away.  
Greg took Mycroft's hand.

“Will you ever tell him the whole truth about what was going on in that hell?” They looked at each other.

"Probably not.” Mycroft shook his head.

“It's for the better.” They entered the back of the sedan and rode off, too.


End file.
